


eighteen

by 214jae



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Lee Taeyong is Whipped, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25782535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/214jae/pseuds/214jae
Summary: What might've been the want to take care of Jaehyun had developed into something else, and whatever that was, he had willed himself to forget, had willed himself to couch it as a hyung admiring his dongsaeng. It didn't matter if Jaehyun had dimples, and looked really good when he smiled at Taeyong. It didn't matter if Taeyong were busy posing for cameras or not, unlabeled as it was, Taeyong wanted to forget about Jaehyun, and with what presupposed wanting to be with him.But. He really didn't.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 11
Kudos: 165





	eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> this was honestly only given fruition to for my own satisfaction, very self-indulgent, and if it wasn't already obvious by my previous fic i've been trying a new writing style so i'm kinda scared sharing this. but it's here now, anyways.
> 
> thank you to [dyna](https://twitter.com/st_tyong) for always giving me the time of day everytime i have to ramble about this fic, and for giving her opinions too!!! and also thank you to [myra](https://twitter.com/tyunoluvbot) for answering my dms regarding a few details <3
> 
> there might be plotholes, and this badly needs to be beta'd too but i don't have a beta so. the song jaehyun plays on the keyboard is in this [video,](https://youtu.be/Jk8Wym2VdFU) right by the 11:11 mark. enjoy! i know i did even just a little while writing this.

Despite everything that's transpired in Taeyong's life—debuting for the first time, for the second time as NCT 127's leader, music show wins, music show losses, English practices courtesy of Johnny, English transcripts, concerts, tours, international interviews in which said practices played a big part in—he remembers exactly when he'd first met Jaehyun. It was most certainly eight years ago, when the nostalgic cloud backdrop still existed and there were still other trainees whom he knew but not enough to still keep contact later with, trainees who didn't make it, trainees who are still yet to make it. It was two months after he stepped foot inside the SM building for the first time, when the only other trainee that he really hung out with was Johnny—who was still Youngho-hyung hours before he was introduced as SM Rookies in December—because he'd been in the game longer than he was himself and he knew how everything went better than anyone. And because Youngho-hyung was nice and always offered him encouragement and advice whenever he needed it.

He still does it from time to time, and it's still as effective at best and rarely ever echoed by Taeyong just like all those years ago. He was mostly approachable and amicable, also tall, and it didn't matter that they were born in the same year and Youngho-hyung was only more or less than four months older than him. He felt so much like a hyung Taeyong has never had, more so when he had to console him and tell him it was okay to like the dark-haired trainee that just came in. Jaehyun was skinny, nice, dimpled, had messy hair, and a dark fringe draped over his forehead just like Taeyong. Jaehyun, by nature, was sweet and kind and someone Taeyong felt the need to take care of, and that was all. Really. Taeyong was older, and Jaehyun was younger than he was, looked paler than he was, as skinny as he was, shorter than he was. It was okay if he'd caught himself looking at Jaehyun antithetical to the way Youngho-hyung looked at him; looked after him, because he just wanted to take care of him. Because he was his dongsaeng and he knew they were going to debut together. That was it. They were going to be together for years, in the same group, in the same dorm, and it was all okay. Taeyong kept telling himself that, though the more he tried to convince himself the less it became convincing.

It didn't get any better when they debuted as NCT U, with individual and group fanbases they built over the course of being SM Rookies, of being the highly anticipated boy group trailing them from their first live broadcast _NCT On Air_ with Heechul-sunbaenim to their debut stage in _Music Bank._ Everything had kept him busy since then it was believable enough for him to forget about Jaehyun and everything the boy entailed to him for a while. What he felt when he heard Jaehyun, saw Jaehyun, or talked to Jaehyun did not matter, and it didn't feel in any way at all necessary. Everything was fine because he didn't feel the need to act on it, to figure out what wanting to always see Jaehyun meant, what unconsciously thinking of Jaehyun during practice breaks meant. Everything was fine because even Johnny himself wasn't dating anyone back then, even Taeil-hyung who was their oldest, or Yuta who easily develops crushes. It's like—like peer pressure, but that excuse—whatever that might be—was only acceptable when Taeyong was still eighteen and nineteen, when no matter how much he thought he had it all figured out, he really didn't. 

He sees Jaehyun everyday, has settled himself onto the fact that he will be seeing Jaehyun everyday from the day he stepped inside the old practice room and caught Taeyong and Johnny's attention, and with that alone it was already difficult enough to not look at him the way he thinks he shouldn't. Being busy meant he had to adjust to the spotlight hanging over his head with each step he took, being busy meant pulling all-nighters in the practice room despite having already debuted, being busy meant a lot of fanservice, a lot of catering to the fans to make them stay with him—them—in the long run, love, admire him for being his true self. Build a reputation for himself. Taeyong was busy, and so was Jaehyun, but that didn't stop the latter from calling for him just the same way he used to when he was only sixteen. And that was a lot. That was a lot. For Taeyong.

What might've been the want to take care of Jaehyun had developed into something else, and whatever that was—whatever the development was that Taeyong didn't have the heart to name before because he just debuted and was busy—he had willed himself to forget, had willed himself to couch it as a hyung admiring his dongsaeng. A touch on the nape, a ruffle or pat on the hair, or even casually resting his head on Jaehyun's shoulder or patting a hand on his thigh. Something more touchy, heartfelt. Maybe staying up 'til dawn to listen to Jaehyun's worries, or going out and making their thirty-minute practice break last. A hyung looking after his dongsaeng. It didn't matter if Jaehyun had dimples, and looked really good when he smiled at Taeyong. It didn't matter if Taeyong were busy posing for cameras or not, unlabeled as it was, Taeyong wanted to forget about Jaehyun, and with what presupposed wanting to be with him.

But. He really didn't.

"Taeyong-ah." Taeyong looks up from where he's perched on one of the dressing room chairs backstage, takes a few seconds flitting his eyes everywhere until they land on Johnny. He wonders if his thoughts were that loud for one of the subjects to materialize right in his face. "Photos in eight. You're zoning out again," Johnny teases, and then leaves to where Taeyong doesn't know. The teasing holds no proper gravity, not enough to get Taeyong offended, or anything for that matter. It's not like it was easy to take offense when Johnny was grinning like that. It's at least not as offensive as Jaehyun's dimpled smile, or even the fact that he's a living, breathing human. Real, despite looking believable enough to have come smack dab out of a manhwa.

Since he debuted, it's always been loud, and that includes the dorms too, but there's something different with the crescendo of it all today. RodeoHouston has that type of noise that Taeyong would rather drown out with his thoughts and deal with later when he has to get his adrenaline rushing quickly for another remarkable show, but it's apparently not the case for Jaehyun. He's across the room with his dimpled smile, Haechan, and a cameraman documenting the affair. Taeyong understands. Jaehyun, the maknae of hyung line, playing with the group's maknae. Their fans would love it. Taeyong already loves it.

"Cham Cham Cham!" Jaehyun turns his head to the right. It takes him about three seconds to break out a smile when he realizes that he lost, and then he suffers the diabolic, mocking laugh of their maknae. Why isn't he at least a little bit nervous? They're so loud. Taeyong's so nervous.

Jaehyun stands and seems to end the game with Haechan who goes and enchants another member into probably another round, the cameraman in his tail—all this, Taeyong follows with his eyes, only to realize that Jaehyun was summoned by one of the staff. He comes to aid with his dimples on display, and Taeyong thinks it's kind of unfair that he doesn't know why a corner of his lips is upturned. Taeyong isn't being autocratic, he's just—it's Jaehyun. Taeyong doesn't need to be rational when it comes to him and it's selfish and dumb at the same time; the want to have Jaehyun's attention but the lack of initiative to catch it. Jaehyun's wearing his jacket like everyone else, light flaxen against black, but he's still a few thousand degrees gorgeous than all and sundry in the room. That's Jaehyun. Right there.

Taeyong starts nipping at the corners of his nails even though he's hyperaware he shouldn't. It's unhygienic, as opposed to his very clean self, and he's been told to curb the habit more than he's allowed himself to appreciate, but it's hard to put something you've grown to love out of reach. Jaehyun was shorter than him by an inch or two when they first met, younger than him by two years and had dimples on way chubbier cheeks—that's unnecessary. Jaehyun has always had dimples. The members knew that. All of their fans knew that. Taeyong already knows Jaehyun had dimples and was no longer shorter than him, and he knows this even now because Jaehyun's coming to him and Taeyong's suddenly placed in an internal turmoil.

Taeyong should get up. Do anything that doesn't require being close to Jaehyun, or having to look at his eyes to not be confronted about why he can't. He should get his hair and makeup fixed and guise it as him wanting everything to be perfect because it's their first time at the rodeo. He should check up on everyone, probably do a head count. He should—

"Hyung."

Taeyong stays still.

He ought to ask why, of all people, of all eight other members, he had to come to him. Taeyong wagers it's because he's the leader, but why? Why, why, why? Taeyong's heart isn't exactly doing him good at the moment.

"Yeah?" he manages to carry out, at least. He can't form any more words, and Taeyong doesn't know if that was better than embarrassing himself with the ignominies hanging by the very tip of his tongue.

"We need to go take photos." Taeyong needs to look away 'cause the camera will catch him staring at Jaehyun one way or another, or ogling, whichever fits best, and he doesn't exactly look like the visual he is when he's looking at his long-time crush. He looks—stupid—ogling like that. He's been doing this for over eight years. He's been in love stupid, looking at Jaehyun stupid for over eight years.

And then, Jaehyun's touching his hand. His grip is light and as gentle as his face and Taeyong feels a bit dizzy, and he can't find it in himself to pull away let alone flinch but it's too late now. It's too late to flinch, of all reactions there may be out there, because that would be weird and uncharacteristic of him. Jaehyun pulls Taeyong's hand away from where the older was abusing it with his teeth. 

"Let's go." He helps Taeyong stand albeit the latter being fully capable of doing so alone, and Taeyong's heart kept doing disgusting things even while he took polaroids of Jaehyun backstage because the younger asked him to. Later that day, he'd release them on his Instagram account, and Taeyong would wish he had his own just so he could like the post, and maybe make some of his own too.

* * *

Their promotions for 'Kick It' was brought to an end by leaps and bounds. They procured their first and only win in _Music Bank_ after much losses, and there has not been a day of rest for any of them even after that. If anything, they're more tired than when they were preparing for 'Kick It,' but that was mostly because the new choreography is as strenuous as the aforementioned and 'Cherry Bomb' combined.

They're practicing harder though, dousing more blood and sweat, and it always commences with Doyoung shouting something along the lines of getting more than just one win and a PAK this time, then everyone succeeds it with claps and "Let's go" as derived from their pre-concert cheer. They're all tired, heaving, and more driven by the end of the day. Taeyong's usually at the studio after this, or in the comfort of his bed playing with his Switch. Not—definitely not in the comfort of his bed, and getting distracted by the images plastered on his phone screen. He should rest, most of all. He wants to rest, really, but he wants to bestow upon Johnny a good portion of the blame as to why he still has yet to put his phone away and close his eyes. Fuck Johnny. Fuck Johnny and Taeyong hopes he chokes on his saliva while he's on standby at their _W Korea_ shoot.

Jaehyun shouldn't look this good so late at night.

Jaehyun shouldn't look so, so Jaehyun. 

Taeyong doesn't know what that means.

The pressure gnawing on his inferior lip is digging, and it prompts him to tear his eyes away from the images on his screen to reply.

 _Why are you sending me these?_ Right, of course, oblivion is definitely the best facade to put on while asking your best friend as to why _, why,_ he's sending you behind the scene photos of your long-time crush. Taeyong fights the want to succeed his text with Ryan weeping in his pool of tears and pose it as how he's going to bed tonight. Or maybe look at all of the Apeach emoticons because it looks like Jaehyun—especially when he blushes and dimples—until he himself lies in his own pool of tears. 

Why did he have to have dimples in the first place? Taeyong knows he got them from his dad, and Taeyong had obtained knowledge of the fact way before a fan asked Jaehyun about it during one of their fansigns in the past, because Taeyong himself had asked Jaehyun the exact same question before.

"Who did you get your dimples from?" he had asked, and poked Jaehyun's protruding dimple. He had let his finger stay there just for the hell of it.

"My dad," Jaehyun had replied, and smiled wide Taeyong thought his finger would submerge under his skin.

So. Taeyong knows who he got them from.

Taeyong would like to be the _only_ one who knows who he got them from.

Johnny sends a reply. _Why not?_ Taeyong should've known that's what he'd get before Johnny even typed it. Fuck Johnny. Fuck Johnny because he's so infuriating. _I'm just updating our leader. Don't the Romeos look good?_ and comes next with Johnny's last text is a selfie of him and Jaehyun. Johnny's holding the phone, of course—Taeyong wouldn't know what to do if Jaehyun were any closer to the camera—and Jaehyun's next to him. He has pearls around his neck and what seems to be a bigger one lying on his sternum. He's wearing orange under a black coat, but then again Johnny is also wearing orange under a coat that Taeyong assumes must be Gucci, but he doesn't elicit such a definitive response from Taeyong the way Jaehyun did. 

All this is shorthand for a selfie of Jaehyun and Johnny with their chests and abs exposed.

Abs exposed.

Abs exposed.

Taeyong blinks once, and then twice, and then he looks up to the left only to be met by the SpongeBob drawing on his wall. Taeyong drew it because he was bored, and also because he was suddenly reminded of his yellow sponge phase years ago, and thought that maybe it wasn't a phase at all. It is terrifying. Jaehyun's abs are terrifying.

Taeyong gives the selfie another look, clicks on it, zooms in on Jaehyun, and is that… his belly button is exposed too? What is he wearing? Is Romeo supposed to be this daring? Why is Taeyong acting like it's his first time seeing Jaehyun's naked torso? Why—

"What the fuck." Taeyong doesn't know when exactly Johnny started on his bullshit but it might've been the first sentence he's ever uttered since the minute Johnny decided to feed his own amusement. The devil incarnate that he is. Taeyong zooms out as if doing so would alleviate the mental suffering that Jaehyun put him in.

Taeyong is going to die. Fuck Johnny. But then again, he also gets to see Jaehyun, Jaehyun, O Jaehyun, way before the issue comes out. So fuck Johnny, but also bless him. Bless Jaehyun, most of all. Taeyong really is going to die if he doesn't cease from looking at Jaehyun, and he needs to stop staring at Jaehyun, Jaehyun's chest, Jaehyun's abs, Jaehyun's belly button.

Taeyong wants to tickle his belly button. What the hell?

 _Do you want to die?_ That's it. Maybe oblivion wasn't the best way to deal with this, after all. _I'm gonna kill you when you get home, Youngho-yah~_ and seeing that Johnny immediately opened his text, he adds another, _I'm going to thrash your side of the bed~ You already know Haechanie will agree with it too._

It's true, really. Taeyong wouldn't have to tell Haechan the reason why he wants to rearrange his plushie collection and take the sheets off Johnny's bed and throw it in the laundry though it's not due yet—not like he's going to actually tell—and Haechan would still offer his help to make the outcome of the artwork greater than what Taeyong alone could manage. It happened before, and it'll happen again. Taeyong loves their maknae a lot.

 _You're getting ideas because it's late at night. Our night owl, Yongie 🦉,_ and before Taeyong could reply, _Remember when you used to stay up late when we still had Ennana too?_

Taeyong's eyes widen a bit. Johnny went there.

Johnny _went_ there.

Johnny went there and Taeyong doesn't know how long it takes him to answer, finds that it's kind of unusual for him to take long now that he doesn't have an image to ogle at and quietly mewl over for a few minutes, long enough for him to be considered tongue-tied and the loser of this—whatever this vying conversation with Johnny is.

Johnny wasn't wrong. Johnny is rarely ever wrong that most of the time he's really never wrong. Taeyong did use to stay up before, sometimes because he can't sleep so he stays in the living room watching the broadcast until Jaehyun and Johnny come home, mostly because he's just waiting for them to come back. "It's because I'm your leader," Taeyong said back when he and Johnny were still roommates, and the topic was opened in the dead of the night. _It's because I'm your leader,_ Taeyong had said. _It's because I'm your leader and I need to make sure you get home safe. That Jaehyun is safe. You too. But also Jaehyun,_ Johnny heard just because—because his mind worked like that. Taeyong doesn't know if he likes how Johnny's mind works.

He's had his own guestings at _NCT Night Night,_ and while there are memorable moments in every guesting, like that night he filled in for Jaehyun because he had his own schedule to tend to, or the first and second time he guested with the rest of 127 and shared hilarious stories to the listeners—all of that up and leaves every time he thinks of Jaehyun's birthday two years ago. Of all things that Taeyong lacks, it most definitely isn't creativity, he knows that all too well, has accepted the glaring fact that he encapsulates being an artist a lot.

Taeyong knows. Taeyong's learning to love himself.

But then again, the surprise on that day was Doyoung's idea, mostly, and Johnny pitched his own too because their best friend was willing to spend a week implying that he wants to do something for Jaehyun, and it was getting pretty unbearable to see him uneasy for having little to none to do. He could've gotten him another bracelet, that was easy, but crawling around the SBS radio station while thrusting forward a swivel chair with a cake on it? That wasn't easy. Getting his shoe taken off by Doyoung because he might get caught by the birthday boy wasn't easy, but it was fun, and successful, and Taeyong might have wanted to lick the icing he himself applied on Jaehyun right when they went off-air.

But what are the odds that a birthday surprise that wasn't initially meant for Taeyong deemed him dumbfounded too?

A lot, apparently. Unfortunately, or not.

Taeyong saw everything on SNS, and he's not going to deny that he lurked for half an hour, or maybe a full one, but there's really no one to deny it to except himself because no one else knows. It was obvious that his lips were way closer to Jaehyun's cheek compared to Doyoung's. Taeyong saw all of the overly zoomed in photos, stopped himself from clicking each photo, had Doyoung send him one, and he shouldn't have had the reaction he had. He still did though, and he spent a few days averting his gaze from Jaehyun's pretty face until Jaehyun himself confronted him for it, because Jaehyun didn't like to keep his worries to himself when it came to Taeyong, didn't like avoiding confrontation compared to Taeyong, and because he actually has balls to do whatever he wants unlike Taeyong. Taeyong's got no balls—if he had any, it wouldn't have taken him this long, and way longer with Jaehyun. Jaehyun's always been like that, always a little bit different from Taeyong, but it worked. They work.

Taeyong heaves out a sigh and slides down until the headboard is no longer supporting his back. He raises his phone up to his face and the message Johnny had sent him seven minutes ago says, _Speechless? 😝_ and then the text just a minute ago says, _Done with the shoot. You waiting for us (like how you used to) or you already asleep?_ sequestered between their small banter and photos of Jaehyun. Taeyong's stomach coils almost unpleasantly, but he doesn't have an ounce of complaint. He doesn't even get up.

It was a stupid conversation, basically, that confrontation, if conversing meant Jaehyun doing most of the talking, mending what he thought got damaged, and Taeyong only saying: "I wasn't ignoring you, Jaehyunie. I just don't feel good these days." 

He would've settled for something better, something believable and undeserving of Jaehyun's horrible excuse of an affirmation and doubtful eyes. He wished he settled for something better. Jaehyun was nice enough to not call him out for being a lying motherfucker. Doyoung criticised him for the exact same reason.

"You can't lie for shit," Doyoung had said. He was so mean, and for what, exactly? "You need to learn from me because you can't lie for shit, Lee Taeyong."

And really, the only reason his recollection of that day is still clear as day and night and Jaehyun's face is because he still can't lie for shit. Especially when he was put in short order a month after that day at a fansign and was asked why he kissed Jaehyun on his birthday, and he told the fan that he liked Jaehyun and he didn't fucking stutter. He wasn't dumb. He knew a good portion of their fans went nuts over that answer alone, but Taeyong went nuts because he blurted that out. Taeyong went nuts because he didn't mean that platonically, not in a 'I like Jaehyunie because he's my dongsaeng' way but more like in a 'I like Jaehyunie, and he's the love of my life, and I'd like to kiss him again' way.

He appreciated Doyoung's efforts though—Doyoung gave up on him after a week, Taeyong is just not the lying type—and that is why he was happy to give Doyoung a message in an _NCT Daily_ series called _To You,_ one that they started and finished filming a week ago. He'd wanted to record one for Johnny too, had expressed it to the older because he was also his best friend and he felt bad, but Johnny's being an ass at the moment. But then, he had also wanted to give Jaehyun a message just because he felt like he hadn't been able to be vocal to the younger, but a part of Taeyong wanted to say it to Jaehyun's face instead, have him be the only pair of ears that'll hear him out because that's how it had always been for them.

Taeyong is sure he hadn't fucked things up between them—yet. Before he looked at Jaehyun the way he wouldn't look at Johnny, Doyoung, or Taeil-hyung, there was only friendship, platonic comfort, and sturdy trust they built between the both of them, because there wasn't a day that Jaehyun didn't wait with him while he took long to purchase a ticket back home to himself. They had fights, some Taeyong wished they didn't have, some Taeyong doesn't remember because they weren't worth remembering, but that was okay. That was okay, that was their kind of growth, and Jaehyun was still the same pale, skinny boy he met when he was eighteen. Only now—he has abs. And he's really not that skinny anymore.

Taeyong ignores yet another one of Johnny's teasing. It's of no use waiting for them, Taeyong thinks. Jaehyun resides five floors up, and he would most likely not even see him unless Johnny invites him inside because he can, or maybe because he's being a good best friend slash wingman, but Taeyong is also tired.

He'll see Jaehyun tomorrow, anyway. He sees him everyday, has always seen him everyday since they were trainees. He's tired. This is enough thinking about Jaehyun for the day.

So, he texts Johnny back. _Zzzz, buy me sweet potatoes if you can_ and places his phone atop his headboard, sighing as he makes himself comfortable on his bed.

Taeyong is tired, and he's also got no game. Fuck.

* * *

It's in a week after that they start the jacket shoot for their repackage album. Taeyong had felt nostalgic last night, had that recurring thought that he gets during every end of promotions; that maybe he could've done better for the last comeback—could've danced better, could've delivered the rap better. He's been doing this for four years, and he knew what the public thought of him was fickle, and as much as he'd like to really only care about what he and the fans think, he guesses that might justify his occasional worry.

In the dressing room where it's bright and all the lights are on, it's easy to spot who enters and leaves. This time, it's Jungwoo, who makes his presence evident by being blaring, filming himself and walking over to Taeil-hyung and Yuta. It's nice, the corner of Taeyong's lips twitch to a telltale smile. Jungwoo's cute, adorable, lively, and he's also very tactile with Taeyong—even when he doesn't feel like it. Taeyong missed him. He's the only one who's got his jacket on because he'd just finished getting his photos taken. Taeil-hyung's hair is a much more vibrant vermillion now than any of the shades Taeyong's ever tried, and Yuta got the sides of his hair shaved for a new look—his own idea, as far as Taeyong knows. Jungwoo's at the forefront of the loudest ones in the room, Taeil-hyung proudly reigning second, and Taeyong doesn't know what they're talking about. Or if the words they're uttering even make sense.

To be frank, he doesn't know what Jungwoo and Taeil-hyung talk about most of the time. He'd heard some of them clearly before, and the way they talk is just hilarious that Taeyong finds himself in stitches sometimes. He still doesn't get a thing though, even with how familiarly quick they talk. He's their group's main rapper, and one who writes lyrics too at that. "Tomato," Jungwoo coos in a high-pitched tone. Taeyong's certainly never written a song about tomatoes, or jajjangmyeon. One look at Yuta who's staring at them and holding the camera gives Taeyong the impression that he has no idea what's betiding in front of him too, doesn't have ample interest to figure it out. He was still laughing when Taeyong had turned his attention to his phone.

It's bright and loud and Taeyong can still hear the playful banter when Jaehyun takes the space next to him on the couch. It's Jaehyun. Taeyong didn't have to look to know that it was Jaehyun. They have eight years of friendship riding their backs enough for that. In his periphery, he sees Jaehyun turn to him, and when Taeyong locks his phone to look at Jaehyun too, his heart is in his mouth.

"Hi," Jaehyun says. He's looking at Taeyong over his shoulder, looking _so_ good while looking at Taeyong over his shoulder, sporting that smile where his lips are pursed, dimples showing. He has the gall to place a hand on Taeyong's knee while looking that good, and despite the thickness of the fabric with which his trousers are made of, Taeyong's skin burns. But, of course, of course, this was all normal. Jaehyun placing his hands on where it's most appropriate, where it's okay and boundless for a pair of friends is totally normal. Taeyong barely does it nowadays, but it's still normal. Everything's normal.

"Hi," Taeyong greets back, smiles, and then, "Jaehyunie." Just because—just because he wanted to, if only to remind himself that they're still close enough for him to call Jaehyun that. Jaehyun's got black hair with green streaks now. Everyone dyed their hair except for Doyoung who settled for strips of tinsel, and it's a shock that Johnny finally decided to dye his hair something that wasn't brown, or black.

It's unfair—how Jaehyun still looks the best among all nine of them.

Just like that, Jaehyun turns around, removing his hand from Taeyong's knee. Taeyong lets the burning of his skin dissipate into the air just as Jaehyun starts playing around with his phone which Taeyong noticed just now. He's calm more than he claimed he was a few minutes ago. He also wants to kiss him. This isn't new. Taeyong's thought of kissing Jaehyun longer than he's been sitting on this very couch, had wanted to kiss Jaehyun longer than all of their songs combined. It's not really new that Taeyong doesn't remember when he'd started thinking about wanting to kiss Jaehyun. It must've been when he was nineteen, or twenty, but that doesn't really matter when he's twenty-five now and he still feels the same—wants to do the same.

"Jaehyun-ah," Taeyong calls, and Jaehyun's quick to turn to him with only a shadow of a dimple peeking from the corner of his cheek. His eyes are sparkling, like he was actually waiting for Taeyong to call his name, to continue what might be a conversation they can pick up from simply saying 'hi.' "You looked good, by the way." Jaehyun looks at him funny, and Taeyong feels like the class's laughingstock. For fuck's sake. "Last week— I mean. With Johnny. Being Romeos… and all. Yeah."

Jaehyun grins at him. Grin, rictus, eye-disappearing-dimple-showing grin. Taeyong is having an aneurysm at the young age of twenty-five. "Thanks, hyung. I look good today, too, right?" His tone is playful and really, it's not helping the screams erupting in Taeyong's mind and chest. Taeil-hyung's gone. Jungwoo's still filming and it's a surprise that Yuta's still conversing with him and not turning to mind his own business. The editing staff sure got a lot of footage to snip from Jungwoo Cam alone.

"Of course," he manages to let out. "You always look good, Jaehyunie." Before he could even blink again, his hand's already on Jaehyun's nape, massaging, fingers burying underneath the baby hairs residing there. Jaehyun's smiling at him. Taeyong's heart jumps. This is normal. This is totally, absolutely normal. He doesn't know when was the last time he did this, if they were in a public event or not, if there were cameras chronicling them or not. He hasn't done this in a while, but the familiarity and warmth of it all takes any forms of doubt away from him. Doing this takes him back to old practice rooms and song covers on small stages and falling asleep to a pair of half moons.

Jaehyun turns to his phone again. Taeyong's hand slides to his lap, and he's smiling at his own phone until Jungwoo comes saying, "You can see all the members who all dressed up in a new way. What color is it?"

Taeyong locks his phone and reacts. He feels good, honestly.

"This color is…" Jaehyun says.

"Emerald!"

"This color is…"

Jaehyun's taking too long to think. 

"Sapphire!"

At this point, Jaehyun's already started carding his fingers through his hair, and Taeyong would've wanted to do the same if he didn't literally had his hand on Jaehyun's nape minutes ago. "It is moist on the inside and crispy on the outside," Jaehyun finally decides.

Taeyong doesn't catch what Jungwoo asked behind the camera. "It's seaweed stem color." He points if only to gesticulate his nonexistent point.

Jungwoo turns to him. He gets asked about his own hair which Jungwoo duly names strawberry bubblegum and he laughs. Taeyong pinches at the patch of skin that says 'stand' in lieu of bringing his nails to his teeth. And Taeyong wants to cry because, in the middle of Jungwoo Cam, he realized was being such a fucking pick-me.

* * *

On April 26, SuperM's the first group to do _Beyond Live._ It's all new to Taeyong, the whole notion of a virtual concert, and having had to perform without the sight of fans singing along with them felt kind of empty, but he and the rest of SuperM made it work—Baekhyun-hyung kind of forgot and pointed the mic to the lightstick infused audience during his solo stage. They all laughed about that backstage, and then some more when the concert was done. It was fine because he's stood on the same stage before for rehearsals and the pre-rehearsal videotalk, and it was going to be an experience he and Mark can share with the rest of NCT 127 because they were bound to perform the same way too. He spoiled a new song 'Drip' with Lucas and had fun during it because Lucas was fun and easy-going and he dances effortlessly fun. He performed 'GTA' in a way he wasn't able to in their past concerts, and his incessant practice of their new track didn't at all go to waste. Despite the physical absence of their fans, the pro that came along with it was that they got to talk to them—something they don't get to do in concerts—which was kind of a disaster under the guise of a blessing because the Wi-Fi didn't work in favor of the chosen fan sometimes.

Everyone told him and Mark to have a good time through KakaoTalk, and he received a _Hyung and Mark, fighting :)_ from Jaehyun in the 127 group chat. He did have a good time, had been having a good time in the morning before they commenced the concert, and Taeyong wished he didn't have to send Apeach blowing a heart bubble as a reply to Jaehyun. It's not as if his reply isn't buried deep by other messages and other conversations now, not as if his reply was that significant, but it still haunts him for some reason.

He's freshly showered, he's in the passenger seat on the way to Cheongdam-dong, and he's… strangely perturbed by Apeach of all things.

 _Doyoung_ remains left on read because Doyoung's being a dick. It's been ten minutes, long enough for Mark to nap in the backseat. His lips are slightly parted and now that Taeyong is looking, his own neck hurts by seeing Mark craning just to lean on the window. Right about now, a picture of Mark looking exactly like how he does would be passed around the group chat, were any other member present. But it's just him and Mark. Taeyong isn't that cruel of a hyung nor a leader even if it all would only be in jest. The cruelest thing he can do is send some kieukswhich would most likely be ignored and buried by the group's jokes.

"Taeyong-ah," Hyungdon-hyung calls from the driver's seat. "Are you turning on V LIVE tonight?"

"Yes, hyung." He'd sent two messages on Lysn before hopping on board, to finally bring fruition to a certain promise he made with the fans four days ago. He missed them, too.

Taeyong purses his lips. Doyoung still hasn't answered. _Answer me,_ Taeyong texts, and then another. _Dick, why aren't you answering me?_

"While eating dinner? Is that okay?" he adds. He gets a nod in response, and then the van turns to a left. Taeyong switches to Twitter just to see if anyone's got anything to say about his presence and the group today. He's sure there are already existing articles on Naver too. People just never… run out of things to say. Be it good or negative, but he supposes that was fine, only sometimes, and what everyone said about him was bound to be publicity one way or another. That was fine. Sometimes.

Mark stirs in his sleep. He looks confused when he opens his eyes and closes his mouth in unison. So far, he doesn't look like his neck is in pain. "Are we there yet?" he asks, voice laced with sleep, and no one answers because he's seen the answer by the window.

 _I'm not a dick,_ Doyoung's reply reads. Taeyong clicks on the notification. That was pretty quick, so maybe Taeyong should've called him a dick before he got inside the vehicle.

_You're a dick, Taeyong-hyung._

_No, you._ Mark seems to have fallen back asleep, if the contemporary snore that comes along with his already parted lips was anything to go by. Taeyong wonders why he isn't as tired. Maybe that's got something to do with his body clock, something about his fucked up sleeping schedule, maybe. Or he's just excited to go live tonight.

 _And a dumbass,_ Doyoung's follow-up message reads. 

Taeyong squints. He—Doyoung wasn't wrong. He doesn't even ask why, but Doyoung gives it to him.

 _I just think you are,_ Taeyong rolls his eyes.

 _I sent an emoticon to Jaehyunie this morning,_ he texts Doyoung back.

The car comes to a stop, and Taeyong spares a quick glance at Mark whose sleep wasn't at all interrupted by the abrupt halt of the vehicle. He and Hyungdon-hyung share a look—which doesn't really mean a thing—before he hops out and sees Bonhwa-noona waiting for him. Taeyong looks back, waves, and tells Hyungdon-hyung to drive safely.

He gets ushered inside SUM Café, and Taeyong takes this time to converse with Doyoung as much as he can, get most of what he can out to Doyoung. Surprisingly, but not really—not anymore—Taeyong hears the clicks of a camera as soon as he enters, and that hits him, prompts him to switch apps and send two more messages on Lysn.

When he goes back to his chat with Doyoung, his text five minutes ago says, _And? What's that got to do with anything?_ It's kind of great how he still manages to sound like how he does in person over text, no matter how dissonant the characters seem over text. 

_Mark is on his way back,_ he tells Doyoung.

 _Uh? Jaehyunie had Inkigayo today,_ Doyoung says, and Taeyong can practically see the nonexistent speech bubble and Doyoung's nonexistent interest in this little conversation about Taeyong's dumb, almost decade long crush.

"Taeyong-ah," Bonhwa-noona calls, and she points to the same old pink meeting room. "I'll get your food. Yongjae is inside."

"Noona, order your own too, okay?" Taeyong says, and he gets waved off but not without Bonhwa-noona saying, "Later, later." Then she's off to get him dinner, and hopefully their own too because Taeyong would feel bad if he saw them not eating while he does so in front of them. Taeyong doesn't know how many times he'd been in this room. He'd been here so many times that he can barely recall each, and he kind of wishes he'd been keeping track, because lounging in this room was a pretty big deal for trainees and rookies alike. And he was both. He misses being both.

"Hyung, have you eaten?" is the first thing he says to Yongjae-hyung. The man is setting up the device for his live, and Taeyong takes a seat in front of it and opens his phone.

"Not yet," Yongjae-hyung replies. "Maybe later."

"Why?" Taeyong asks, almost half-heartedly, because he's not looking at Yongjae-hyung hyung and he isn't really talking to Yongjae-hyung anymore. He's talking to Doyoung. Doyoung's reply is ringing in his ears, it's mean, very him, and it somehow catches to the forefront of his brain that he completely drowns out everything else and doesn't hear Yongjae-hyung's response.

Doyoung's reply says, _I saw him when he came back after. Doesn't seem bothered by some dumb emoticon._ Taeyong feels it, the bane at the end of Doyoung's words, despite the text being sent four minutes ago.

 _I'm not bothered,_ Taeyong replies, and he wishes he could type all the characters in impossible capslock and an infinite amount of punctuation marks, just for the sake of adequate gravity. And to annoy Doyoung, too. He's really good at that.

_Look, hyung. It's just an emoticon._

Taeyong feels heat rise to his neck. Taeyong already hates this conversation.

_I'm sure you've done worse. I know you've done worse._

His food comes, and he contemplates on sending a countdown of sort on Lysn before he goes live. He decides against it, and only opens the V App on his own phone. He doesn't reply to Doyoung at all.

* * *

Taeyong likes going live. Taeyong likes eating. Taeyong also likes the fact that time passes by faster than it usually does when he goes live, which is most probably why his lives always last an hour but never feel like it. Doyoung had sent him another text minutes ago, and Taeyong only catches a few words—characters—which weren't really of help, but he didn't get a follow-up either so he doesn't check.

"Noona"—he places the phone down the wooden salver—"noona, hyung, have you ordered?" Bonhwa-noona waves him off with fondness like before, and Yongjae-hyung echoes her earlier response.

"Ah, why? Please eat," Taeyong whines, leaning back and tilting his head to the side. It's characteristic of him, because sometimes they give up with just a little aegyo—it worked on Jaehyun once, thrice, five times, and nearly each time he did it when they filmed _NCT Life_ before—and right now he wants the managers to eat and his aegyo seemingly didn't get the job done. He gives up, though, and only notes to buy them dinner later once he's done.

More comments pile on his screen as he takes the last spoonful of bokkeumbap. "I talked to Doyoung today," he tells the fans with a mouthful, replacing his empty plates with kimbap and tteokbokki. "The members told us to have a good time, and we had a good time with SuperM today, right? Baekhyun-hyungie did a lot for us today." Taeyong smiles.

With SuperM, it's a whole new atmosphere. Taeyong didn't know how to act the first time, and he didn't know if being in a whole new group with a whole new lineup meant he had to act differently—despite Mark being there, and Lucas and Ten too—because they weren't NCT 127, they weren't Jungwoo who'd easily cling to him with no questions asked, they weren't Taeil-hyung who was quiet and would only talk once prompted. They were Kai-hyung and Baekhyun-hyung and Taemin-hyung. It was a different home, a state-of-the-art dimension.

"He tweaked and played with the script a lot, and that helped the show's flow and made it fun. Watching that side of him made me think that, ah, hyung is carrying quite a heavy burden today." He doesn't say the follow-up suspended by the tip of his tongue that goes 'I think I understand how it must've been for him today, too' though he really does. He only plays it off with a smile, quaffs it down with a piece of kimbap, and resumes scrolling through the comments until he stumbles upon an answerable one.

"Oh, who's Taeyongie's favorite villager on Animal Crossing?" His eyebrows meet. "I haven't been playing it lately."

He doesn't know why he says it when no one even asked in the comments, what prompted his brain to go from Baekhyun-hyung to SuperM to Animal Crossing and to: "I recently invited Jaehyun to play with me and I also gave him money."

He giggles, and he promptly sees Doyoung's fake disdain as if the image's already imprinted behind his eyelids. "But I think I need to give him more," he adds.

And then it's just scrolling and scrolling through the comments until his eyes catch a familiar username, finds that it's Doyoung's, and he reports it. He'll probably fight him later about that, but right now, he feels accomplished, really.

* * *

'Punch' comes out in two days and they performed it for the first time today during their own digital concert, after he danced his own choreography to Johnny's DJ set, had TVXQ's Yunho-sunbaenim as their special guest and introduce himself as 'Johnny's eomeoni,' and after the Q&A videotalk where the members gave each other short messages—he had to give Jaehyun one. Had wanted to give Jaehyun more than just three sentences. Had wanted to give Jaehyun more than just a handshake. The audience didn't feel as empty as it was to Taeyong anymore, and he actually thinks he liked doing this concert more than SuperM's. They've been preparing a lot since, so they were busier than usual despite not having many overseas schedules like last year, what with the final touch ups of their outfits and more practices and more filmed content to go by their timeline.

Taeyong made sure everything went well, made sure to listen to what the staff says and made sure his members listened when he relayed the message and everything.

Everything went well.

Only, they filmed _The Office Final Round._ Jaehyun was the head of the Marketing Department in their little skit and he looked so handsome Taeyong was telling him exactly that before he even knew he was doing it. But that wasn't the point. At least, not exactly, because Taeyong received a hug from Jaehyun a few minutes into filming the skit. Taeyong received a hug from Jaehyun because he wanted him in his team along with Mark and it was swell, truthfully. It wasn't like he did that because he wanted to. He did that because they needed that to happen. The script needed that. The fans needed that. Taeyong definitely didn't try to feel too special because everyone else got hugs, Mark himself got a hug from Jaehyun too, and it was all swell. Jaehyun had given him hugs before, back when they were trainees, back when they won for 'Cherry Bomb' and 'Regular' and the rest and Taeyong felt anxious more than anyone else. Jaehyun had given him hugs in public with cameras getting a load on them and they were all great. They were all fine.

Only now, in 2020, in the era of 'Kick It' and 'Punch' where they filmed more than just boy videos and skateboarding and stuff, when Jaehyun hugged him, bodies clad in tailored suits that they've worn too many times to count and not only the cameras watching, he received it with bated breath and all. Taeyong thought about it for a good full day, didn't tell Johnny or Doyoung about it at all, and still denied that it felt more than special. It's a secret he'll take with him to more car rides, plane rides, music show wins, and then to his grave.

Taeyong sighs. He's all but in his shoestrings, he realizes, though it's the kind of worn out that isn't really foreign to him anymore, but one that sinks in on him every time he's all expired of that concert adrenaline. He's crammed between Taeil-hyung—on his left is Jungwoo—and, unfortunately, Jaehyun, because their arms and knees are touching and it's—

It's distracting.

Very, kind of. Distracting. He doesn't know what to make of that.

Taeyong just wants to be by the window seat. Taeyong just wants to stop thinking.

Somehow, Jaehyun doesn't seem to care about it, doesn't seem to be minding it at all which was understandable because he wasn't Taeyong. He wasn't internally freaking out and bouncing his knee to avoid it from touching the other at all. He is very engaged in a conversation with the rest of the group, actually. Something about which members of NCT and WayV experienced doing the digital concert twice. Haechan had finished counting them, coming up with five by his one hand, and eventually started talking about which between _Beyond The Origin_ and _Beyond The Dream_ he liked doing best. Jungwoo throws his own comments occasionally though he's more tied up to his phone, and Taeyong promptly catches a glance at his screen and sees Naver. He's probably searching for articles. He's monitoring. And monitoring is good. On the very front it's Jiseok-hyung who's driving, seated next to Johnny where—if Taeyong were being honest—he should be instead. It's, like, an unspoken rule, that he gets the passenger seat at all times and costs. It just happened that Johnny pulled out the long-legged card tonight and Taeyong wasn't in the mood for any banter.

"How about you, hyung?" Haechan is already turned around, arms on the backrest and chin on his arms when Taeyong realizes he was talking to him. "Did you like tonight better than the concert with the SuperM hyungs?"

This, by some means, catches Doyoung's attention. "You're baiting him," he says to Haechan, and then adds, "Baekhyun-hyung is literally there."

"Then who does Taeyongie like better? Baekhyun-hyung or our Kim daeri-nim?" Johnny butts in, and it punches out the first reaction Taeyong's ever done since they hopped in—he rolls his eyes, though immediately he tops it off with a lone smile. He's not alone on this one, because Doyoung shoots Johnny an impervious look, but maybe that was particularly due to the mention of the nickname he obtained from _The King of Masked Singers._

All of it was supposed to be just a joke, the entire Doyoung getting jealous because of Baekhyun-hyung thing, even up to now, but Haechan eventually inflames the whole van when he says: "Baekhyun-hyung when he's with the SuperM hyungs? Doyoungie-hyung when he's with us." Yuta whoops something that's probably meant to tease Taeyong and while Johnny offers Haechan a high-five, Mark mutters something like "woah, makes sense," and nods to himself twice. Thrice, final. Taeyong tries not to feel offended in spite of knowing that it is all still in jest.

"What are we having for dinner?" It's Jaehyun who asks, and Taeyong doesn't know if he did that with the purpose of extracting the attention from him or if Jaehyun were really just hungry. If it were the former, Taeyong would be grateful.

Just as Taeyong expected, there's a chorus of all kinds of food thrown around in the air, some exaggerated, some firm, most of them kogi. Taeyong feels just as thrown like the words as the group carries on with their fuss about tonight's main course. There's a lot of yelling, a lot of mediation from Doyoung, a lot of laughing and nonsense. Taeyong doesn't slip a word in edgewise for no significant reason. He only procures his AirPods, plugs them in, and drowns everyone out on shuffle play.

It's pretty much of a failure, though, because Haechan still managed to itch his inflections in between Taeyong's ears.

"Hyung! I'm tired of kogi! We had that last night!" the maknae complains, though Taeyong knows it's likely that he'd agree to a whole dinner of it if the majority wanted. Nobody can say no to a night of samgyupsal. There's some more folderol, Yuta by the lead and backed up by Jaehyun who easily worms his way in Taeyong's ears, until Doyoung shuts everyone up and brandishes the Notes app on his phone almost desperately.

"We'll take votes," Doyoung announces.

Someone—Johnny—hollers and says, "Oh, Kim daeri-nim! Please feed us!"

"Kim daeri-nim, please treat us!" Jungwoo adds in that high-pitched voice of his, earning laughter from everyone in the van. Mark laughs the loudest, and he calls Jungwoo 'cute' like how he always does and even Taeyong smiles a little at that as well.

"Mark-hyung, listen to me, okay? Say jeongol, and then a lot of kogi. Doyoung-hyung's buying," Haechan speaks, in a manner that should be furtive and pass through Mark's ears only, but it was obvious that he wanted everyone to hear it and, so, it's not a real bear to get everyone chanting Doyoung's name and deduce the whole van into chaos.

Once again Yuta is leading, and very loudly Taeyong can hear Jaehyun and Taeil-hyung laughing at the commotion too, then everyone but Haechan targets Johnny once Doyoung spared the group a glance as though delivering a warning. Taeyong finds himself smiling even wider, and for a while the music in his ears tunes out. Haechan refuses to yield, still chanting Doyoung's name and Doyoung's credit card. All the while Mark's pointing at him, wheezing in laughter like Haechan is the first person to ever say a joke.

"I vote kogi! Kogi!" Taeil-hyung says almost too passionately, promptly interrupting the pandemonium. "I make good samgyupsal." He grins, one that successfully makes Taeyong and the rest giggle, until it marks down and Taeyong realizes it's his turn to vote.

Everyone's looking at him expectantly which he doesn't get—they all look like they weren't being a mess seconds ago, and Taeyong doesn't know if he should dislike that or not—because his vote wouldn't exactly determine tonight's celebratory dinner. If anything, it's Jaehyun's, but the final verdict is also looking at him expectantly, and Taeyong does not want that, so he just says: "Kogi. Let's just go with it. And lots of soju? Right? Soju? Somaek? Maekju? It's okay." He's blabbering, he is _so_ blabbering. That seemingly was enough to catch Johnny's attention, and Taeyong also does not want that, so he looks down at his phone and scrolls through his playlist instead.

"Hyung? Why? You're so high tension!" Taeyong hears Haechan whine, in a tone that suggests he is very much throwing a tantrum though it's more likely a hoax. He kicks something, it seems, and then sends Mark into a squawking predicament which everyone ignores because Doyoung's already announcing tonight's main course. Taeyong didn't really need to turn down his volume to know that they're having kogi and a hell lot of soju tonight.

It's surprisingly quiet now, which is more than excellent because Taeyong really prefers this than the usual noise that erupts every time all of 127 are together in a whole car. In loaded silence is where the fatigue starts gaining a few more pounds, weighing his shoulders down and wearing him out. At least, he can hear his playlist better now.

"Hyung," Jaehyun says beside him. He gets a nudge by the elbow, and then another before Taeyong snaps out of his playlist and looks at him. "What are you listening to?"

Taeyong wonders why he asked. He could just quickly glance at Taeyong's screen and find out which track he's listening to, really, but then Jaehyun's looking at him straight in the eyes. Expectancy, though quite different from the way he looked at him just before this, is circling around his irises. Taeyong realizes and blinks.

"Oh. Do you wanna share?" Taeyong suggests. Jaehyun smiles at him. He doesn't let Taeyong himself take the right bud from his own ear, and his finger touches a small patch of skin on Taeyong's ear and—

And. His stomach churns almost unpleasantly. That alone really brought all the butterflies back. And suddenly, Taeyong's afraid, afraid to open his mouth and let the metaphorical butterflies fly their way up his throat and past his lips, that he'd speak of something he might regret seeing Jaehyun's reaction on. It's absolutely insane. Taeyong feels too old for this kind of shit.

"Hyung, you meant that, right?" Jaehyun asks. He's leaning on the backrest now and he's also not looking at Taeyong which makes his lips more protruding and attractive and shiny because of the street lights outside. It's like he had just run his tongue over them. Like he had done that to prepare himself for asking this very question. Taeyong doesn't really want to assume.

Taeyong only wants to kiss him.

"Meant what, exactly?" Taeyong knows what he's talking about, unless he had told Jaehyun something in the spur of the moment today and doesn't have any recollection of it. He knows what Jaehyun is asking him—can say yes or no to that vague question alone—but somehow he wants to hear the words spill right from the younger's mouth. Expound it, perhaps.

It's now when Jaehyun looks at him, and Taeyong's assumption is proven when he sees Jaehyun swipe his tongue over his lips.

"About— About gaining strength together?" Jaehyun tiptoes.

Taeyong swallows.

For a moment, they're both rigid, motionless water in a well, with Taeyong hanging fire and Jaehyun just—he's Jaehyun. He's waiting, like how he always does; he is waiting like how he used to. Always so obedient, patient. Then Taeyong smiles, says, "Of course. We're a team, aren't we? All of us; 127," and hopes he doesn't look constipated 'cause that's precisely how he feels. The butterflies are so, so alive. Too alive.

"Yeah." Jaehyun opens his mouth like he has more to say. "Yeah. Yeah. Of course. Yeah. Sure, hyung." It sounds like conviction more than anything else, with his every word punctuated by a nod and pursed lips. But Taeyong doesn't pay it any mind, and only thinks that Jaehyun looks like a puppy like this.

He smiles, and Taeyong watches as that smile crumble into a fit of giggles which he replies to with a simper, and Jaehyun's dimple is actually _there._ It's, like, it never even disappeared, but if he leaned closer, craned his neck—if he just moved, if he just fucking moved—

Taeyong looks away.

"Hyung, can I choose the song?" Taeyong doesn't turn to him, and only hands Jaehyun his phone until his AirPods start singing a familiar song. Taeyong can't pinpoint the title, though he can already grasp it, feel it at the tip of his tongue, because Jaehyun's humming along, and it's very distracting.

Taeyong badly wants to get shitfaced tonight.

* * *

Taeyong is shitfaced. World-shaking-word-garbling-cheek-blushing-copying-what-everyone-says shitfaced. He is such a fucking mess. He's half-lidded after only three glasses of somaek and that's kind of great, he thinks, because he's usually squiffy and immobile and in need to be succoured after two. Doyoung's next to him and nursing a glass of somaek, and the rest are more sober than Taeyong could ever be. They didn't let Haechan drink that much which seems to be fine with him because it's been hours, and he's still gobbling down ssam made by Taeil-hyung and chasing it with either water or soju. He often gives Mark shots though, and Taeyong doesn't know what kind of pranks the maknae has up his shirt sleeves. He'd rather not know one way or another, to be honest. Jaehyun's standing tall with Johnny and laughing at whatever he had just heard from Haechan, his cheeks puffing. Haechan's joke stretches Jaehyun's face so much that laugh lines have already started materializing themselves on it.

Jaehyun's cheeks are all coloured up.

Taeyong is _so_ offended.

He doesn't even know why he feels offended looking at Jaehyun, or why Doyoung is looking at him while he feels offended looking at Jaehyun.

There are so many stares. Too many eyes.

"Yeah, hyung, because there are people here." Doyoung gulps down a notch of his somaek, so much that he looks like he's in preparation to be mean to Taeyong when he finishes then opens his mouth again.

"You are so drunk," Doyoung points out. "You're even talking to yourself now."

Taeyong frowns, and now he's hyperaware of how his face feels so warm. "Who should I talk to, then, Doyoungie?"

Doyoung shrugs, one that looks like he really has no answer for Taeyong. "Uh, Baekhyun-hyung?" he suggests.

Taeyong stares at him.

"I'm joking!" Doyoung saves. He sets his glass down, now empty of drink. Taeyong didn't even notice he'd been taking gulps while talking. Holy shit. He is so drunk. "If there's anyone you should be drunk texting, it's him"—Doyoung points his chin towards the direction of those pink cheeks that, truthfully, still offend Taeyong—"but he's here and I'd really rather you say everything in person and make a fool out of yourself. Free entertainment, hyung."

Doyoung's grinning at him. Taeyong's also offended by that.

"I'm not doing that." Though it can be fun. "Bubble?" Taeyong asks.

"Jiseok-hyung—" Doyoung's got a pensive expression on his face now. "Hyung headed out. Just show your message to me before sending it."

Frankly, his world is still spinning, so it's prodigious how he was able to type a comprehensible message with a hefty amount of space and question marks—and typos behind the scenes—and also how he seems to have the balls to even suggest turning V LIVE on for the fans.

"I think you're insane." Doyoung hands him his phone, then turns to Yuta. They're all a little quiet now, and it induces Taeyong to yawn and then scrunch his nose to the unpleasant smell that follows it. Mark, for one, already seems tipsy and ready to turn in. But Taeyong can't really trust his inebriated brain to comprehend anything at the moment. "Yuta-hyung, can you pass me the lettuce?" Doyoung calls on. "Taeyong-hyung, the fans are probably going insane too. You're literally drunk texting them." 

"You gave me your approval," Taeyong tells him, and sees blurred white for a moment he had to blink twice. "Can I send another?"

Doyoung gives him a shrug.

He contemplates for a moment, what to say that is, only to end up with something similar to his first message, and for the third time tonight Taeyong realizes that he's so plastered. He's also still very offended, because Jaehyun just steadily stood up—how'd he do that—from his seat, and his face is ninety percent rubicund and ten percent pale. What the fuck. He's sixty-nine percent sure he won't be permitted to go live tonight.

"Repetitive," Doyoung remarks. Taeyong already knew that. But he doesn't know which between his recently sent Bubble message and his Jaehyun-induced thoughts Doyoung was referring to.

After a third message on Bubble, Jiseok-hyung eventually comes back and tells them it's time to take wing. Doyoung ended up paying for half the price after the members expressed their faked grievances, and how Doyoung was apparently breaking a promise ("I didn't promise shit. I glared at all of you.") he'd made during the ride. Doyoung had his own cavils, really, but no one bothered to care because as soon as his card was fished out, the members were already decamping and thanking Doyoung for the treat all in unison. Being the kind best friend, he had stayed with him, and in the car where he finally got the passenger seat, he doesn't remember whether or not Doyoung was uttering expletives under his breath while his card was being processed.

It's quiet as Jiseok-hyung speeds home, save for the low purring of the radio. Save for Doyoung's humming to the song on the radio. Save for the purring of the engine and the honking of other engines. So, maybe, it's not that quiet at all. It's obviously commodious in the car, but the members are more than comfortable piling on one another as they take their time snatching a few forty winks before arriving home. Somewhere in the backseat Taeyong hears someone groan and shift—Jungwoo, maybe.

"Hyung, can I go live at home? I want to go live at home," Taeyong mumbles. He's leaning against the side window, and as much as his eyes threaten to close, he feels mobile and a little perky and ready to lay all his hope on that remaining thirty-one percent certainty that he'll be permitted to go live tonight.

"What?" The car turns to a right. "You drank a little, Taeyong-ah."

"Hyung, why?" Taeyong counters, shifting in his seat. "It's about to wear off. I won't make a mess."

"And if you do? We'll be in trouble. I won't be able to monitor you. It's late at night—we can't call Bonhwa-noona, or even Hyungdon."

At this, Taeyong pouts, but doesn't say more than a "but I promised them," and only types one long message to the fans and internally wishes it's not as repetitive as before.

He sends it after reading it aloud then getting the green light, and then feels like he should send more because he's really fucking sorry that he couldn't go live tonight. Sorry to the fans that he didn't get to fulfill his promise, and sorry to himself 'cause he doesn't have a reason to stay up later tonight. He'd really love to stay up. He likes staying up. A minute was all it took until he gives up and types another message indistinguishable from the last one, and then a 'I love you' slash 'goodnight' one for the final stroke. He'll have to make it up to them soon, he just doesn't know when—definitely when he's all sober and clearheaded, though.

Taeyong yawns, and rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. It'll only take a few more minutes to get back to the dorms and finally be in the arms of his bed. But, like, he doesn't mind nodding off in the van for a few minutes too.

* * *

Taeyong's already in that familiar warmth and consolation that his room has to offer when a light knock's brought upon his door. His head's still kind of a whirlpool and he really should've gotten water before sprinting all the way here when the elevator opened. Honestly, he hasn't even brushed his teeth yet. He ought to brush his teeth. He wants to brush his teeth. But he can't get up and he would really appreciate it if the second knock doesn't come. He's all prostrated and spent and can't afford to welcome who's on the other side of the door—

The second knock comes.

Taeyong groans, and like clockwork the knocking becomes incessant and duly reminds Taeyong of a mallet against a wall. It's annoying. Taeyong's already getting up before he even knew it.

On the other side of the door is Johnny with a glass of water, and his customer service smile.

"I didn't even lock the door." Taeyong gives him a look that he hopes is unimpressive enough. He leaves Johnny standing by the doorway to sprawl on his bed again, a contented groan from his throat muffled. Taeyong doesn't hear him say anything in retort. Taeyong only hears the click of a door then, eventually, feels the dip on his bed.

"Water," Johnny offers. Taeyong turns his head a little to look at Johnny over his shoulder. Johnny's got his arm somewhat outstretched, the water sloshing a bit in his hold, and it's almost reminiscent of the hand he'd usually offer him every time he's sitting by the corner of the practice room in his own little pipe dream. Taeyong misses being a trainee; misses going from Seoul to Bangkok for their shows; misses filming _NCT Life_ when he was only twenty; misses when he had just met his members. Taeyong misses when everything was just simple, and he has yet to grasp the sparks that come with the limelight. But there's no turning back now, is there, because he wanted this. All that is left for him to do now is perform better, be better, on the wide stretch better known as the stage while the spotlight is still bright and stationary over his head like a mistletoe.

"Get up," Johnny persuades. "Drink it or you'll be absolute shit by tomorrow." Taeyong decides it's best to acquiesce.

"Is that all?" Taeyong inquires. Johnny stares. "I mean— I got up, drank a little water, and all."

There's a weird twist on Johnny's lips, one that Taeyong hasn't seen in a while because they haven't done this in a while. Taeyong doesn't even know what prompted this, but finds that he doesn't want to ask why. He just imbibes more water, and hopes it'll be enough to clear his head and think of a plausible reason why this is happening.

"Taeyong-ah," Johnny starts. "You know—"

"This is about Jaehyunie," Taeyong says matter-of-factly. He thinks he imagined it, the mild stupefaction on Johnny's face, so he drinks more water as if when he does it'll wash over his pupils and let him see clearer. When he's done, the glass's already only half full, and Johnny's face is already blank. Taeyong wishes it weren't blank, 'cause then he wouldn't have an ounce of idea what Johnny was thinking about Jaehyun—about Jaehyun and _him_ —or what he was supposed to say before he cut him off.

"It is," Johnny confirms. "Jaehyun and you."

Taeyong's index traces the mouth of his glass. "Yeah, I know." And with what seems to be the courage he accumulated from fatigue and wanting this to be over with, he looks up and continues, "But Johnny— _Johnny-hyung, Youngho-hyung"_ —he hasn't called Johnny that way in so long, hasn't found the right moment to call him that in a while—"you have to trust me. I've been doing this for a long—"

"That's exactly why I came here, Taeyong-ah," Johnny pronounces, bringing his full weight onto the mattress and doubling his legs up into lotus position. The bed creaks a little. "You don't think I came here just to give you water, do you?"

 _No,_ Taeyong wants to say. But he's not entirely sure he has the answer for that. He hadn't really thought about it even when Johnny sat on his bed and gave him his drink. As opposed to the Johnny he encounters everyday, the Johnny in front of him at this very moment is rather different—one that Taeyong only has the privilege of seeing when he's being like this.

He doesn't know what being like this meant, but Johnny looked like he does. Johnny also looks very sober. Unfair.

Taeyong shakes his head. His grip on the glass loosens. "But. Eight years? That's a lot, hyung. I can just do more. I'll be okay."

There's a beat.

"Can I be honest?"

Taeyong nods. And then, Johnny's inhaling and exhaling so much reconditioned air Taeyong feels like he's going to corner him by the intersection of the ring with his licensed openness.

"I can understand how you feel, Taeyong-ah, and I know I shouldn't be worried because you're grown—three of us are 95line—and you know what you're doing but"—he sighs—"sometimes I pity you." Taeyong knows not to derive displeasure from the small pity party, but he can't help but lower his gaze and feel uneasy in his stomach—feel kind of judged. But maybe the leftover alcohol in his belly is acting up at the same time.

"Pitied me enough to send me pictures of the guy I like during a spread shoot?" Taeyong jokes, placing the glass atop his headboard. This makes Johnny smile.

"You permitted me to be honest." Johnny shrugs.

Taeyong hums. "I don't think anyone likes being lied to, Johnny-hyung. Or two-faced people for that matter. You choose." He hugs his legs to his chest, reclining his head to the wall and sighing. "You're not any of the two, though. Jaehyunie's not any of that. Doyoungie's not any of that. None of you are."

"You—" Johnny pauses. Taeyong lifts his gaze, and it's immediate, the way he also lifts his fingers to his mouth so he could nip on the nails. "Taeyong, you know you're not any of those either," Johnny says, and then smacks Taeyong's leg with the back of his hand rather playfully. "Yah, you're just some lovelorn dummy who's only ever been arse over tip for the same person. Nothing big."

Taeyong shoots him a look which, now, he is certain is quite unimpressive. The alcohol's wearing out. "'Lovelorn dummy,' wow," he says monotonously. 

"Yeah, wow," Johnny repeats, his voice straddling the perfect line between sobriety and playfulness. "Taeyong-ah, think about it."

"I don't want to think about anything, Johnny-hyung." Johnny glares. Taeyong lets out a long sigh, and along with it comes staring at the ceiling for a moment, thinking of maybe drawing on it too, retreating, and then asking: "Has Jaehyunie ever told you anything? About— About me?"

Johnny tilts his head in question. Taeyong fights a sigh, the absurdity of this question and its follow-up suddenly coming to him. "Like— I mean— You were John-D and he was Jae-D and you're close too. You've spent a lot of nights together for Ennana. Round trips, hyung, right? Jaehyunie might've said something, or maybe he didn't. I don't know—"

He has never really asked Johnny about Jaehyun like this no matter how many times they've talked alone and seriously, but he supposes the past confabs are way poles apart than this one. "Maybe— Maybe he's told you something before," he continues, hoping the short nail on his index comes off as he bites harder. He stares at his plants, at his gaming computer, at the polaroids affixed just above his vanity. He aptly remembers asking Yuta to come room with him here once, because he loved being alone more than anything else but disliked being lonely. Maybe he can ask Johnny to room with him instead. Doyoung would say no immediately, but Johnny would say that he'd think about it, talk to Haechan, and eventually, say no.

"Taeyong-ah," Johnny calls. "Taeyong-ah," he calls again. There's a smirk on Johnny's lips now. Taeyong stops nibbling. "You were Tyong-D for, like, two or three nights, and you're close with Jaehyunie too."

Taeyong ignores Johnny's retort and feels his cheeks go hot. Taeyong knows Johnny's teasing him. Taeyong knows he's being teased. There's a good chance that Jaehyun never told Johnny anything at all because he just didn't, and there's a good chance that Jaehyun never told him anything at all because he simply was not far-gone the way Taeyong is.

"Look, Yong—" Johnny shifts in his seat, and seeing it makes Taeyong do it too. His hands fall to his feet. "If there's anything Jaehyun told me about you, that's just between me and him now. That way, I stay loyal to the both of you, do you get me?" he says, which is a little bit confusing, really.

Taeyong blinks. "Um," he starts. He has this feeling that his question still wasn't being answered—won't really be answered. Whatever this loyalty pledge was, Johnny was doing a really great job at it. Taeyong wishes he didn't. "Okay? Johnny-hyung, we're best friends. We were roommates for almost a year."

At this, Johnny laughs—a series of loud ha-ha-ha's, his head tipping back, and a shove on Taeyong's knee. Taeyong smiles too. Johnny regains himself after wiping a nonexistent tear by the corner of his eye, which, by the way, Taeyong thinks is very dramatic of him. "And Jaehyunie's like my little brother, Yong-ah. He's my coffee and wine mate. You don't turn your back on your coffee and wine mate."

"So you're turning your back on your best friend for your coffee and wine mate," Taeyong deadpans. 

Johnny's brows meet in the middle. "That's not—"

"That's how it looks like to me—"

"Not—"

"Yes—"

Johnny stares. Taeyong stares back. It goes on for a few seconds, their little stare war, until Johnny lets out a sigh all the while rolling his eyes and gaining refuge on the space beside Taeyong. It's not like he'd win against Taeyong, he just wasn't made for that. Taeyong goes to grab his glass of water again, so he's actually left with something to do with his hands.

"Hyung—" Taeyong almost whines, wetting his lips and grasping the inferior with his teeth. He casts a quick glance on Johnny, and sees him with his arms crossed over his chest as though he was deep in thought. When Taeyong speaks again, his voice lowers to what almost seems like a whisper. "Johnny-hyung, I like Jaehyun." He tries again. "I love Jaehyunie. I'm in _love_ with Jaehyunie and I've never told him that. It's always— It's always my little dongsaeng, our Jaehyunie, I like Jaehyunie. It's—" 

There's a pause, and then, "I love all of you, and I know you love me too but— He just doesn't love me like that, hyung—"

"Ever considered drawing there too?" Johnny's pointedly looking at the ceiling. It's not a second after that Taeyong realizes the idea was an echo of his earlier thoughts, when seconds had already passed and there's already little to no water left in Taeyong's grasp. Johnny still doesn't speak, doesn't make a single noise which was okay now that Taeyong's thinking about it, because Johnny's company and the fact that he's getting this same old sentiment out of his chest after a while still provides him solace either way.

"How'd you find out that he doesn't love you the way you love him?" This catches Taeyong off guard, as evidenced by the way his mouth half-opens, the way his grip on the glass tightens. It's not really a question he should—could—answer. In fact, he knows Johnny has more to say, but he finds himself running the gears in his brain for an answer nonetheless. "You always just compliment him, tell him you _like_ him. You called him sexy on national television, Taeyong. How would he know you've always meant that in a 'I love you and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, my cute dongsaeng' way?"

The gears have stopped. Taeyong doesn't have anything to say. The teasing in the last bit of Johnny's spiel even goes unnoticed, which is uncharacteristic of Taeyong because Johnny's teasing always works on him. This is his first time hearing it from Johnny himself, really, and he knows. He's painfully aware of the fact that he simply doesn't have the audacity to lay his feelings out in the open for Jaehyun to recognize, or repudiate—whichever his reaction to Taeyong's feelings will be. He's always mostly kept it to himself.

It's less work, but limited freedom.

"I told you to think about it, didn't I?" It's not a question. "Think about it, Taeyong-ah," he says, his voice still the same inflections from earlier.

Taeyong nods, and his brain goes backwards. "So, he's never told you anything during any of your round trips?"

Johnny glowers at him, lying sideways and pillowing his head on his arm. He closes his eyes and he looks like he's had enough and just not voicing it out. Taeyong thinks he'd probably look the same too, were he in Johnny's place.

"You're sleeping here?" Taeyong asks. Johnny opens one eye to look at him. "So, you're sleeping here—"

"No—" Grunting, Johnny lies supine again, this time with his hand unconsciously falling over his chest where it rises and falls, and the other somewhere by his side. "I can't sleep without my plushies," he says in English. Taeyong smiles to himself because he perfectly understood, smiles at the thought of Johnny's plushies and his plan of rearranging it that one night.

"I have plushies too," Taeyong mutters, raising the glass to his lips for a sip. "Wanna exchange?"

"No, thank you," Johnny says in English again. "I have a whale plushie too, Taeyong-ah." Taeyong thinks of his own plushies; of SpongeBob Squarepants that a fan gifted him years ago; of Winnie the Pooh and Dumbo; of the sea animals he didn't win but still attained backstage at _Soribada Best K-Music Awards;_ of the shark he bought with Doyoung at Pier 39.

Taeyong thinks of looking at whales and sharks. Taeyong thinks of looking at Jaehyun, at his full, sanguine lips and his smooth legs and all that Jaehyun is that only a few people have seen. Taeyong thinks of the times he wrote his own verses and songs.

"Give me," Johnny says, stretching his arm and aiming for the glass in Taeyong's hands. He's already sat up, Taeyong realizes, and he looks funny with his day clothes and thawed makeup still on. And, maybe, he looks a bit worried too, like this conversation wasn't enough assurance for him; like he still pities Taeyong the way he did before he entered his room. They don't say anything about that though, Johnny just climbs off the bed and the creak of it is nearly overlooked when he says, "Taeyong-ah, fighting!" with his hand balled into a fist, obviously cheering him on.

"Good night, hyung." Taeyong gives him a smile, and they fist bump and Johnny's out the door.

Taeyong feels hazy, then calm, then lonely. _Think about it,_ he hears in his head, because he is—thinking about it. He's been in love with Jaehyun for years, has been stupidly in love with Jaehyun for years, has been inhibiting himself for years. He's thinking about all of it.

And all of it would be okay, wouldn't be something Taeyong ought to overthink about if Johnny hadn't come to talk to him and practically cause a storm in his mind. It wasn't middle-of-the-road. It wasn't something that Taeyong had in his mind every second of the day. It's been there for so long that maybe, he was starting to get used to it; the stares, the touches, the nanoscopic love proclaims through vague interview questions.

So.

 _Think about it,_ he heard even when he steadily made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. _Think about it,_ he heard when he changed into pajamas and forgone a shirt because it suddenly felt too hot. _Think about it,_ he hears now in his bed, where he's all freshened up and comfortable. 

Taeyong thinks about it until he falls asleep.

* * *

He doesn't think about it that much in the next few weeks. Granted, he was busy so there was no room for that, but that didn't mean that he didn't catch Jaehyun's eyes on him most of the time. He knew he'd be staring, because Taeyong knew he would too if Jaehyun were avoiding him and he didn't fucking know why. Taeyong has no explanation for that. It's even a surprise that Jaehyun has yet to come to grips with Taeyong about it, and if he does Taeyong wouldn't know what to do.

Taeyong never knows what to do.

He wasn't going to talk to Johnny again, or have Doyoung comfort and eventually try to get smart with him. Certainly, spamming old selfies and sending a video of him dancing shirtless on Lysn and guising it as a gift to the fans wasn't the archetypal way of coping with that possibility. He knew he'd be kicking the blanket by the end of the night, but he simply had no choice. Their promotions began after a countdown where they talked about their new b-sides 'NonStop' and 'Make Your Day,' where they played games, where Taeyong purposely chose Cleopatra instead of Baskin Robbins 31 because he wanted to see Jaehyun play and he knew Jaehyun would win.

Really, he just wanted to see Jaehyun smile, because he knew Jaehyun liked winning and Jaehyun had the confidence to carry the day, but that did not save him from feeling naked and obvious by the end of it. He was quiet on the ride back home, on the elevator, up and on their floor where he didn't do so much as wave to the other members before the doors closed. Truly, he had been acting strange, and even stranger after that, but still no one dares to call him out for it. He'd felt Doyoung's eyes on him sometimes, had stared back at Doyoung as though to prove silently that nothing was wrong, and even Mark and Haechan threw odd looks his way on some days. 'Punch' rose up the charts and, undeniably, did better and procured more wins than their past comeback, so there was at least a reason for the members' eyes to stop biting on his skin. Yuta had said something about Doyoung's pre-practice cheer pulling its weight, and maybe he was right.

Taeyong doesn't lose sight of Jaehyun nonetheless, whether it be waiting backstage at _Music Bank_ , or mcing with Minhyuk-ssi and Naeun-ssi on _Inkigayo,_ the wide set of _Weekly Idol,_ or in the practice room where they danced in baseball jerseys. And he's almost quite certain he's also in Jaehyun's line of sight 'cause—'cause he stares. They don't have much on their promotional schedule, and he's been with SuperM for their comeback too, so he doesn't have to see Jaehyun on most days of the week and actually _think._ The farthest destination they have this month isn't even for their comeback promotions, and is located at a beach. On the road, they all promised to make the most of it, to get as much footage and also, submerge a member in the sand.

Taeyong has a good nap on their way to the set for their Nature Republic CF just so he won't feel the need to do so on set, and he thinks it was magic, partly because he genuinely feels like he doesn't want to lock himself in a room anymore—he had played with the blue ball earlier in the morning and had Taeil-hyung tackled to the ground—and for the most part because when Jungwoo passes the camera to him to run with Mark to the shore, he wholeheartedly accepts and films the member closest to him.

The sun's high up the horizon the time he moseys up to Taeil-hyung, the sky clear and mirroring the waves and his faded blue hair. Taeil-hyung's lounging on the beach chair and fixing an umbrella when Taeyong turns the camera and calls him. "You came here to work. Did you come here to rest?" Taeyong asks as though he was nagging, but he's betrayed by the soft stutter and a sound remotely close to his chest-heaving laugh at the edge of his voice.

As expected, Taeil-hyung plays along. "Yes, I came here to rest," he says, and Taeyong laughs because Taeil-hyung is funny and he's in seventh heaven. He is still giggling when he tells Taeil-hyung to have a good rest all the while walking over to Johnny. He hadn't talked to him since that night—at the very least, not seriously—but Johnny's on his phone and the hammock and Taeyong would like for his thoughts to take a backseat.

"Johnny-ssi, Johnny-ssi," he calls. Johnny looks up from his phone. "You came here to work, did you come here to play?"

"I work and play at the same time," Johnny says, his arm pillowing his head.

Behind the camera, Taeyong grins. "That's right," he concurs, and accepts the heart Johnny gives him.

Then, Taeyong pans the camera to the ocean. He zooms in, whistling randomly as he makes his way close to the shore. He has a hunch this segment of his won't make it to the final cut, but he continues and speaks anyway.

"Everyone, we're in Gangwon-do." He zooms out. "I think I've said this earlier, though, right?" he continues. Somewhere behind him he hears the members shouting, singing—Mark is one of them, he knows—and he turns around and turns the camera to film himself and the blue at the rear.

True to his guesses, the members have populated a small portion of the beach for a jam session. "Everyone, the members are singing. Do you want to see them? Should I— Taeyong Cam? No, right? Taeilie-hyung's recording them, anyway. It's okay," he jokes, posing for the camera. His skin is shining it seems, but most of all, his hair coalesces with the waves and the sky and—

And.

Jaehyun's in front of him.

Jaehyun's hair is curly.

"Hyung, you're filming?" he asks. Taeyong's thrown off track, his eyes wide and his mouth half-opened as though he wants to speak yet not even a stutter is flowing over the edge of his lips. He hopes the editing staff will pity him enough to not include this in the vlog. He didn't see Jaehyun coming—in both senses—but Jaehyun's here now. Jaehyun's here now, with his permed curly hair, his crinkled eyes and weakening Taeyong's knees.

"Oh, everyone, bye," Taeyong says to the camera in between repressed stutters. He feels the desire to laugh apprehensively, and that's exactly what he does. "Here's Jaehyunie. We're passing the cam to Jaehyunie—"

The haste with which Jaehyun carried to slip by his side and into the frame is, needless to say, absurd and absolutely terrifying. Jaehyun's still sparkling even when the camera's shadow blocks some of his features, and that's terrifying. Taeyong just stares, and stares, and stares, until Jaehyun's staring back and Taeyong just. Can't.

"Hyung, aren't we filming?" Jaehyun's frowning, and there's a nascent pout pulling by the corners of his lips, but that was because of how bright the sun was in Gangwon-do even in the afternoon. His full cheeks too, because of the sun, are gleaming, and if he looked closely they're blushing too. Taeyong's okay. He's definitely alright.

"Oh— I— Yeah, Jaehyunie, tell them where we're at." He ignores the way their bare shoulders meet, the way it burns and makes Taeyong picture the fizz of the illusory mark right where their skin had touched.

When Jaehyun does, he copies what he says, embracing some aegyo in the process. Gangwon-do did nothing wrong to suffer under Taeyong's aegyo and noises, but it's an easy last resort for Taeyong who—he may not show it—is losing his shit. "Where are we filming this?" he asks. Jaehyun clicks his tongue in a quick trance.

"We are in Goseung-gun," he answers, ducking his head a little.

Taeyong stares into nothing, repeats, "Goseung-gun?" and almost regrets when he stares so explicitly at Jaehyun's lips when they caught light upon answering him. But, like, they're filming, the fans will see this, the members are seeing this, and Taeyong can't get any more obvious than _this._

So, he asks again, "What are we here to film?" This time, he does so much as stare at the way Jaehyun's lips move as he utters the words "Nature Republic," the way his lips look fuller and pinker in lipstick and the daylight. This time, he doesn't think of wanting to kiss him, but thinks of wanting to make up for the time he spent avoiding him for… stupid reasons.

"As expected, Nature Republic is the best for the sea, right?" he says, mentally patting himself at the back for being a good ambassador. There are two responses to this, one that goes Jaehyun nodding and agreeing to his advertisement, and the other that goes Johnny and Haechan waving and calling for them near where the members are crouching around. Jaehyun's quick to tell them they're on their way

"Everyone, please stay tuned for us, NCT 127 and Nature Republic!" Taeyong shows a lopsided smile, and they both wave before Taeyong turns off the camera.

It's not at all silent after this. There's the sound of the waves crashing over the shore behind them, there's talking made by the staff, and there's yelling and clapping made by the members. But somehow, all of this helps accentuate the silence that only ever exists between them—one that only they can hear, one that Taeyong himself had initiated—the stillness of their movements as if one is waiting for the other to go ahead and move, so the other can just follow.

Taeyong goes ahead and moves, hoping Jaehyun would follow.

"Jaehyun-ah." He hears the sound of the bobbing of his throat right in his ears. Jaehyun's looking at him expectantly, raising a brow for a second and dropping it down. Taeyong doesn't know what is there for Jaehyun to expect. "Can we—"

It takes him a while to speak again. He drops his gaze, he licks his lips, he curls his toes and feels the sand spill from the in-betweens. He finally grows his own balls. He steps forward once. He does everything there is left to do and says: "When we're free— When— When we're free. Can we talk? At home. Just us. I need us to talk."

For a few seconds, Jaehyun looks struck dumb, but he regains himself quickly and smiles. "Taeyong-hyung, you ignored me for days and now you're beating me to it?" 

Taeyong spots the telltale smile emerging by the edges of his lips, his brows meeting together. "What?" 

Jaehyun looks hesitant for a bit, like he's back to his teenage trainee self and tiptoeing around Taeyong and the older trainees. Like, maybe, he had said something he shouldn't have let Taeyong hear. In the end, he only shakes his head, and Taeyong notes how his curly hair barely moves along with it unlike what his natural, untouched hair does. "Nothing, hyung," he says.

Taeyong nods. "When we're free?"

Jaehyun gives him another one of his rictus smiles. Taeyong's heart melts. "When we're free. I'll tell you when."

When they made their way to the crowd the members had formed, it was already Taeil-hyung who's digging out sand from where they planted a stem. And it was great. They catch up on the game right when Johnny succeeds Taeil-hyung's turn. Taeyong loses and they passionately bury him under the sand as ruled and promised, and albeit incapacitated from moving, Taeyong knew Jaehyun was in stitches from seeing him have a handmade six-pack.

Taeyong isn't sure whether he wanted the day to end at all. But he supposes it has to if he and Jaehyun are going to talk.

When they're free. 

At home. 

Just them.

* * *

Technically, none of them are busy for now. There are yet to be plans for a new comeback, for a new EP, and there are no more music shows lined up, so they're at home for most of two weeks. They keep the fans company through V LIVE somehow while they don't have any schedules, and Taeyong was mostly up through days and nights recording for a new project with SuperM—he'd re-recorded his verses in 'Drip' and caught up with Lucas and Ten, finding out that they've been nowhere but the practice room and the dorms these days because of WayV's new comeback. Haechan had stayed with Dream for one week at most too. Technically, and frankly, they're his kids too, but Taeyong has yet to know if Dream has anything on their schedules or Haechan had gone to them only because he wanted to finally be with people his age. He's gone MIA basically, he doesn't know when was the last time he opened his phone to text. The 127 group chat is, of course, silent, and Taeyong's mom prefers calls over texting.

Jaehyun's still yet to tell him when they're going to talk. Taeyong already wanted to talk, had even suggested to himself to go to the tenth floor to talk, but Jaehyun was very clear by what he said at the beach and he respects that. In the second week, he oversleeps and wakes up to beeps and utter quietness from outside his room. It's definitely not morning anymore, and right about now there would be noise from the television or Doyoung nagging for a reason only he knew, but there's nothing. Groaning, he rolls over, stretching, reaching for his phone. He opens it with his eyes barely open and still imbued with sleep, but he nearly falls off the bed when he reads the texts sent two hours ago.

The first text reads, _Hyung._ This is Jaehyun. It's definitely from Jaehyun. Taeyong wants to scream into a pillow. The second: _Taeyongie-hyung._

And the third says, _We're having late breakfast here. We can talk after?_

His jaw feels tight, and it kind of hurts when he smiles at his phone, and more so when his smile widens as he smooths a finger over Jaehyun's profile picture. It's nothing special. It's just… charming—Jaehyun's dimpled face taking up the entire space, his lips a thin line. But seeing it in person is way better than clicking through it to see it better on his phone, so he nips on his nails, and types with one hand. 

_Sorry, Jaehyunie. I just woke up. I can go there now?_

It's almost funny, really, the question marks at the end of their messages like they weren't at all certain of what to say, of how to say it. They're tiptoeing on wooden floorboards, each creak louder than the preceding ones, each of them a good distance away from each other. There's only so much weight Taeyong's toes can handle. And later, when he falls and yelps words he'd been meaning to say for years, he hopes Jaehyun stands flat on his feet and, optimistically, catches him in his arms. (Pessimistically, Jaehyun will not catch him at all. Jaehyun will let him fall, will let the smile and hope on his face fall. And on the wooden floorboards where his remnants lie, Taeyong himself will be the one to stomp on them. But. At this point in his life, Taeyong would like to not think about that.

Taeyong is very, very optimistic.)

The number sitting next to his text doesn't disappear, but he doesn't wait for it to do so and switches chats.

 _Go upstairs for breakfast,_ is all Doyoung says. No punctuations and emoji and whatnot. It's so bland, and Taeyong can almost taste it in his tongue. Imo-nim must be the one who cooked for them. Taeyong hopes the breakfast wouldn't be as bland.

He gets up from bed, finding that his earlier stretching didn't do much, and very suddenly misses Ruby and seeing her stretch in the morning back at home in the outskirts of Seoul. Taeyong doesn't reply to Doyoung and starts his day.

Somehow, it doesn't take him long to do his morning routine and finish a new pack of sweet potatoes, so he's already in his shoes and out the door before half past two. He couldn't help but notice the emptiness of their dining table, and on the way to the elevator he contemplates whether he'll eat or talk to Jaehyun first. He didn't have to wait long for the doors to slide open, stepping in as a woman's voice announces the floor number he'd clicked. His phone beeps, and a message from Jaehyun hangs over his lockscreen.

_Okay, Taeyongie-hyung. I'm in my room._

Taeyong doesn't reply. Taeyong only grasps his inferior lip with his teeth and pockets his phone again. He looks up, and finds that the red number beside the equally scarlet arrow reads '8,' finds that he's two floors away from what might be the best or worst moment of his life.

Four years into the industry, Taeyong can say that his nerves still thrum in agitation sometimes. But this time, when the doors spring open and he steps out, his heart doesn't thump along to the yells and cheers of the fans, to the melody of the song and the choreography; his heart thumps loudly alone in his chest in the middle of the hallway, every step accompanied by every beat. 

He ends up outside the door, faced by the door lock which passcode he doesn't know about. He knocks. He does it once, and then once more when no one comes to receive him. He knocks more times than he could count until it swings open, revealing Jungwoo peeking from a small space he'd open the door with, and a lot of noise behind him.

His smile is bright upon seeing Taeyong, and he opens the door wider. Taeyong feels obliged to smile back. "Taeyong-hyung, good morning to you," he says.

"Hm, Jungwoo-yah, good morning," Taeyong greets back, walking in as Jungwoo steps aside to let him in. He steps out of his shoes, and the pairs by the foyer are a mess—piled atop one another like puzzle pieces—and usually Taeyong would pick up after the members, but this time he doesn't. "Where's everyone?" he asks. He gets his answer when he steps further into the room, and sees Doyoung lounging on the couch playing with his phone, Taeil-hyung having Mark half-seated on one thigh as they watch a variety show on the television, but the moment they cackle Taeyong realizes what they were really watching—Johnny and Haechan in their little couch-made salon and Yuta as their customer on the floor. They've parted his hair in the middle, it seems, tying each side into their own respective styles and distracting each other with purposeful nudges to the elbow. With heated glares at Yuta's hair and the swiftness of their fingers, they look more like a competition than just some time-passing game.

Taeyong takes the space next to Doyoung on the couch and, by hook or crook, overtly feels Jaehyun's absence in the room. Maybe he should've headed straight to Jaehyun's room. Maybe he should've made Jaehyun come to him instead. Doyoung looks up from his phone for a second, makes a second-long eye contact with him, and goes back to his phone. He hasn't told him or Johnny about today—not like he intends to. It's just that none of the two deserves that—to have it served to them half-baked. They've been no more than helpful and considerate and Taeyong's personal go-to's aside from Jaehyun himself. If anything, Taeyong is going to tell them if something worth telling actually happens, but they're just going to talk. He and Jaehyun are talking, clearing things up, completely going back to how they were the day before May 19. Talking. Taeyong was clear about that in Gangwon-do.

"Hi, Taeyong-hyung," Mark says, even waving at him, smiling that same smile he's always had since SM Rookies. The members acknowledge him too, telling him there's food left for him on the dining table.

Haechan looks up from where he has Yuta's strands by his fingers. "Hyung, have you eaten? You haven't, right?" Taeyong opens his mouth to mutter a quick no, but Haechan was also quick to turn his attention to Yuta, so Taeyong doesn't know if his answer is even needed anymore.

"Hyung, Imo-nim cooked for us," Mark says, his brows nearly reaching his hairline, eyes wide, completely dislodging himself from Taeil-hyung's thigh. He looks like he's trying to convince Taeyong to eat like that, and Taeyong duly wonders if his face holds the expression that he doesn't want to eat at all.

But. Taeyong really isn't in the mood to eat. 

Taeyong's in the mood to talk to Jaehyun.

"No," is what he says. He almost regrets it when, in his periphery, he sees Doyoung completely abandon his phone to look at him. Johnny does the same. Taeyong gulps, then he feels like he should escape, then he says, "No— No, I mean, Mark-yah. Later, okay?"

A corner of Mark's lips quirk, and he nods at Taeyong and starts laughing at the way Haechan is making Yuta the butt end of a joke through his hair. Taeyong stands, nearly traipsing, nearly not moving at all.

"Taeyong-ah." He hears Taeil-hyung call. Taeyong stills. Taeyong blinks. "You're already leaving?"

"No," he practically breathes out, feeling just a little bit ironically constipated and sweaty. "No, hyung— I— Jaehyunie's inside, right?" He points to the door of Jaehyun's room, and he ignores them when he makes his way to Jaehyun's room with only so much as a nod from Taeil-hyung. He ignores them even when he's already in front of Jaehyun's door and he hears Haechan break the clement silence, saying, "Oh, Taeyongie-hyung and Jaehyunie-hyung are talking now?" which is only a testimony to the fact that Taeyong had been nothing but absolutely strange around Jaehyun the past weeks, and to make up for that, he lands a soft knock on Jaehyun's door.

He opens it upon hearing a sound from Jaehyun inside. Inside, his bedroom is still the same as the last time Taeyong had seen it, both in person and Jaehyun's 1-2am _24hr RELAY CAM,_ with a bare mattress pushed against the right wall and his desktop computer a great distance away. Taeyong closes the door with a click and walks further in, drinking in all of what makes Jaehyun _Jaehyun_ just by the clarity of his room, just by the fact that Mickey Mouse is still sitting at the very top of Jaehyun's shelf, right next to an LP of Frank Ocean's 'Blond.' Technically, it isn't just his own anymore. Jungwoo rooms with Jaehyun now, and Jungwoo had left this known by the folded quilt next to the shelf, and a pillow sitting right over it.

It's still the same bedroom nonetheless, the same feeling, the same warmth, only—the cover of Jaehyun's keyboard is messily thrown on the desk, and Jaehyun's sitting by its very front.

Jaehyun had paused from playing, and his fingers only hover right on top of the keys now that he's welcoming Taeyong into his little sanctuary with a complimentary gaze. Taeyong doesn't want to stare back, but he feels compelled to do so as he sits by the foot of Jaehyun's bed and sees his bare face closer. He looks like he had just woken up, his cheeks slightly bloated, his curly hair pushed back by a hairband and making it look unruly, like some type of handsomely messy bedhead. _Cute,_ Taeyong thinks to himself, _very cute._

"Good morning, Taeyong-hyung," Jaehyun says. He's got a playful twist to his lips now. He takes off the hairband and shakes his head to remedy it, looking like a puppy. Taeyong loves cats and puppies. Taeyong has his own. And he knows Jaehyun likes both cats and puppies. The pitter-pattering of Taeyong's heart has got to be considered abnormal. There's no way it wouldn't be. 

In spite of it all, Taeyong only pouts. "It's nearly three, though—I think."

Jaehyun laughs softly, so soft Taeyong almost compares it to his own—some loud, hearty screeching he knows he's absolutely capable of. "Yeah, hyung, three in the morning?" Jaehyun jokes, and Taeyong laughs and lightly punches him on the shoulder which is a bit of an exaggeration, because most of Jaehyun's jokes aren't really funny, but Taeyong does it because he's Jaehyun and being with him does insane, questionable things to him.

"For real. What did you do last night, hyung? What were you up to?" Jaehyun's eyes are all but sparkling and amused, like he expects Taeyong to answer his question with something more interesting than his weekly call sheet and outfit themes for _Inkigayo._ But Taeyong has none of that.

"Nothing. Believe me— Don't look at me like that— I've been just so tired the past week that all of it probably capsized on me on my one free day." Taeyong shrugs, averting his gaze to the stuff on the shelf, to the turntable, to the mini piano, to the piled up LPs that had seemingly grown in number, to Jaehyun.

Taeyong licks his lips. When Jaehyun doesn't say anything in return, he continues. "I'm sorry," he says, brows furrowing at the same time as the seams of his lips frown. "Sorry for avoiding you; for always doing it."

"I wonder why though," Jaehyun says, freely moving about in his desk chair, tapping a random key on his keyboard, and then gesticulating. "I mean— Whenever we fight— Us— I come to you first mostly and it's never the other way around. But"—he looks hesitant for a bit like that, licking his lips and running a hand through his hair—"but this time you initiated it and— And it makes me want to know why you suddenly shunned me like that, hyung. Is that— Is that okay?"

Jaehyun looks straight into his eyes, and Taeyong feels judged, then confused, then. Nothing. He wonders how fast he'll try to lie this time—how reserved his answer will be compared to Jaehyun's sudden word vomit—how it'll be if he were to come forward and be honest for once. Maybe he could try sprinting out of the room and hide.

Instead, staring at the keyboard, he says: "Will you play me a song?" When he spares Jaehyun a glance, it's clear on Jaehyun's face, the surprise, as materialized by the lift of his brows and his half-opened lips, yet he doesn't say anything. He only sits properly, fixes the sheet music in front, his fingers faintly brushing over the natural keys. He doesn't ask Taeyong which song to play, but four keys in, maybe that was okay; that this unidentified yet familiarly warm piece was better than whatever song Taeyong would think of last minute; that this was better than lying and running out of the room and hiding.

Taeyong has made himself comfortable on Jaehyun's bed, crossing his feet together with his back straight as though not having it would disrespect the performance before him. All the while Jaehyun doesn't look anywhere else but the keys, pale skin against natural and sharp, and Taeyong doesn't look anywhere else too. He stays staring at Jaehyun, at the slope of his nose and the cupid's bow of his bare, pink lips, and Taeyong thinks about meeting him for the first time. Taeyong thinks about meeting sixteen-year-old Jaehyunie and wanting to take him under his wing but not doing so because he was just himself, nervous and new and most of the time didn't know what to do.

And.

Like.

Wow, he realizes, that you never really know when these things wash over you. You don't even get a heads-up. It could be four years into being NCT 127, with a solid fanbase and several awards from multiple award shows, and breaking down in someone's arms once you've reached home because those awards mean you've made it. It could be the moment you walk in the practice room and see someone in a red jacket smiling and waiting for you by the wall. It could be when you're losing your shit and your train ticket back home to yourself, when you're in love but millions of people know you exist so you just choose to keep it in that one compartment though the train refuses to disappear into that tunnel.

But, he also realizes, that these were only because he is who he is—an idol, a performer, a public figure, NCT 127's Lee Taeyong. Were he just a regular person working from nine to five, paying taxes, and coming home to his dog, it could be the moment he met someone when he was eighteen and still immensely naïve, and it could be when, years later, that same someone plays a piece on the keyboard in front of him. For him.

Taeyong smiles.

Taeyong thinks of wanting more, and the possibility of having more.

And then, with closed eyes, he opens his mouth to finally free the butterflies, hoping their wings catch Jaehyun's attention. "Jaehyun-ah, do you want to go out with me?"

What happens next comes too fast for his liking, for his thought process, for him to completely believe in. What happens next wasn't at all part of Taeyong's could-be's, but he finds himself being kissed deeply, lips and tongue, hands placed just under his ear. He finds himself glued to the dip of Jaehyun's bed where he sits, feet sliding up to the legs of the chair for his toes to curl at. It seems that Jaehyun had come to him through it; through sliding it to him. 

Jaehyun's mouth tastes like toothpaste, so Taeyong kisses him more, licks him more, if only to extrapolate exactly what Jaehyun tastes like because it definitely isn't mint. His hands latch onto Jaehyun's wrists as if they were his anchor, firm and well built, his purchase and assurance just in case he stumbles and falls. When they pull away, there's a thin film of spittle which ties Jaehyun's lips up with his, and Taeyong swears even dancing can never make him pant this much.

He feels the need to say a joke, something about Jaehyun taking his breath away, but all comes out of his mouth when he opens it is nothing alike to a butterfly anymore: "What?"

"What, you mean," Jaehyun reiterates against his mouth, the hand which he holds him with gliding down to his neck, slowly, until it reaches the mattress. Jaehyun's other hand stays, his thumb rubbing criminally soothing lines behind his ear. "What, Taeyongie-hyung?"

Taeyong's gaze drops to Jaehyun's spit slick lips, glimmering in artificial light, and when he lifts it to Jaehyun's eyes, it sparkles pretty much the same way. "What, Jaehyunie—" Jaehyun's hand is warm against his skin. And this, all this, feels so much like being caught in a pair of arms before he entirely falls face first on the wooden floorboards. Taeyong is going to lose his mind. Taeyong _is_ losing his mind. "What— Why— What—"

"You asked me out," Jaehyun says, eyes resplendent, sparkling, face so beautiful, spotless, so Jaehyun, _Jaehyunie, Jaehyunie, Jaehyunie_ — "Hyung, you kissed back. Did I dream of that? Daydreaming— Is that—" 

"No," Taeyong says firmly, mirroring the frown that just now had begun to loom on Jaehyun's face. "No, no, Jaehyunie. You're awake— You're— Not dreaming—"

"It's real then." The incredulity on Jaehyun's face is, as unbelievable as it is, nothing short of confusing. And Taeyong ought to ask why. Why, why, why? Why does he look like this? In what universe does having Taeyong confess would make him do this, in what universe does kissing Taeyong would give Jaehyun the genuine urge to look like this, like he'd been waiting to do that and more?

"No way," Taeyong mumbles, eyes raking over Jaehyun's face, what's exposed of his neck and the silver necklace around it. His stomach twists like a wet shirt in the laundry. Taeyong tries again. "Do you want to go out with me?"

Taeyong watches the way Jaehyun's throat bobs, color gradually spreading from his neck to the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks. Taeyong bites his lip. Taeyong fights the pressure slowly building from his eyes.

"Yeah," Jaehyun breathes out, and Taeyong nearly goes cross-eyed when he realizes how close Jaehyun is that he could see the specks of gold in his eyes, how they flicker from his lips and to his neck and back up to his again. "Yeah— Yes, hyung— I— Yes, I'd love to be with you." _That_ is not what Taeyong asked, but he doesn't want to rectify that either way, because it practically means the same thing and Jaehyun kisses him again and it's so good. It's so, so good, that he moves forward to deepen the kiss but yelps when Jaehyun beats him to it. He hears Jaehyun stand from his seat, finds himself being pushed back until he dips his elbows on the mattress, kissed harder, having his shirt ride up a little and his bony hip caressed. Jaehyun kisses like he means it, like it's his way of relaying things to Taeyong. Taking into account that they had planned to talk, this is absolutely something else; Jaehyun's mouth against his and his hand sneaking further under his shirt. If talking meant transmitting the words, the confessions, and the soliloquies through tongue and spit, then. Holy fuck.

They break away eventually, when Taeyong's lungs are burning and Jaehyun's lips look swollen. He ends up hovering on top of Taeyong, with their feet still planted on the floor and their breaths mingling.

"Is this our first date?" Taeyong asks, his voice small and quiet. "And— And since when did you—" Jaehyun goes back to his desk chair, which means he had to remove his hands from Taeyong and his skin, and Taeyong wonders what's wrong with him when it hasn't even been a minute but he already misses what he feels like. He feels elated on top of confused, and Jaehyun himself looks like it as well.

"Hyung, you've got to watch some of our videos. Please tell me you've watched our videos," Jaehyun pleads, well, at least he _sounds_ like he's pleading. It's kind of crazy how he could easily slip back into talking normally as though he wasn't tongueing Taeyong a second ago.

"No, not really." Taeyong had. Taeyong is an idiot. "Why should I?"

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. Taeyong doesn't have to have ears like his for him to know that he is indeed lying, because when he does he can't look at people in the eyes, and Jaehyun knows that. Jaehyun knows him. He's such a liar, a bad liar. Doyoung is going to be so disappointed.

"For a pretty long time, hyung. But no, not really," Jaehyun says, mocking Taeyong's inflections and shrugging. Taeyong kicks him on the shin. "Ouch, hyung! What—"

"Just be honest," Taeyong whines, then suddenly collapses into a glare. "Jaehyunie, be serious."

"I am honest! It was long ago when— Uh— I realized it— You watched videos! You should know, but no— I've always liked you. I guess." He's blushing, he looks like tomato purée, like that one time he was a cat in _Inkigayo_ and had freckles and a hell lot of pink blush.

"Just like? Jaehyun-ah, you like _that."_ He accusingly points to Jaehyun's turntable as if it had done him wrong, then to himself. "You only like me?"

Jaehyun smiles, dimples showing, eyes folding into crescents, says, "I love you," and fuck, _fuck, fuck, fuck_ — Taeyong's heart jumps two beats, then three more, yet his blood runs north and his face feels hot. That's got to be inane, atypical. He's got to be dead by—

"I love you too," Taeyong says back. Jaehyun doesn't say anything in return and that would be disappointing. The silence means that, maybe, he's as good as spurned, but Jaehyun kissed him and was also averting his gaze, looking down at his feet, blushing, suppressing a smile which further accentuates his dimpled cheeks. How possible is it for Jaehyun to turn even brighter red, Taeyong wonders. How possible is it for another line of heat to crawl up his own spine and neck?

"This is our first date?" Taeyong asks, just a little out of breath, just a little—misty. "Jaehyun-ah, I don't think people kiss on first dates."

"They don't," Jaehyun says, and what Taeyong only heard before he got pushed back earlier, he sees now. For the minutes Jaehyun was silent he was probably gathering the intrepidity to do this; caging Taeyong in his arms, leaning in so much Taeyong's eyes don't properly align, brushing their lower lips together. And he's so fucking close Taeyong doesn't have to do so much as lean to kiss him. "Sometimes they do." Jaehyun's voice impossibly drops an octave, and Taeyong's head spins. "But we're not regular people, hyung. We're"—his eyes flicker to his lips—"us. On our first date, in my room, kissing, doing—"

Taeyong doesn't let him finish. Taeyong doesn't let himself be kissed this time. And. It's fucking crazy. There's more hunger and fervor and tongue than the last kiss, more sounds, less cranny for thoughts and more grip buried on his waist. Taeyong flumps his hands on Jaehyun's arms, fingers scarcely squeezing on the flesh it holds, coaxing out a low groan from Jaehyun's throat—so unusual, so sensual.

But then Jaehyun entwines an arm around his back and cups his bottom and Taeyong yelps, wrapping his legs around his waist once he's lifted up. He's being brought to the bed—which doesn't do much, doesn't create much sense because it's literally right there, so when he's all lied down and has Jaehyun settled right on top of him, he says, in between giggles, "You're stupid."

"Why—" Jaehyun doesn't seem to care about why he's stupid, because he's already leaning forward to press open-mouthed, earthy kisses on Taeyong's neck, to the sharp curve of Taeyong's jaw, to the patch of skin which intersects Taeyong's right ear to his jaw.

"Jaehyun-ah," Taeyong breathes out, hands clutching on Jaehyun's shoulders for dear life. It tickles a bit, but it also feels so novel, so his eyes flutter and his body shivers of its own volition. Jaehyun trails more kisses on his ear, on his neck, scrapes his teeth against his skin, and Taeyong digs what's left of his poor, chewed nails on his clothed shoulders.

"Don't bite," Taeyong warns, and realizes that even in this kind of situation there's still room for embarrassment, for humiliation and a million thoughts, because despite telling Jaehyun to not do much more than kiss, his actions tell otherwise; he pulls Jaehyun closer, hooks his legs around his waist like he won't ever let him go, and it embarrasses him—the need, his brain wanting more but his mouth saying don't.

"Why am I stupid? I'm your stupid," Jaehyun says once he's broken away from Taeyong's skin. The suddenness of it all causes Taeyong's brain to whirl, but he laughs—actually screeches—and hides his face with his arm because this is Jaehyun and he's too close they could exchange spit. Jaehyun's giggling too, seems to be having none of it, because with fingers as delicate as his he uses them to remove Taeyong's arm from his face.

"If you're stupid, then I'm stupid," Taeyong manages to croak out all the while smiling so big, staring at the flushed bloom of Jaehyun's neck. It's only when Jaehyun mimics suppressing a massive smile that Taeyong realizes how cheesy and corny he sounded too, but strangely he wants to strangle himself for it all the same.

"I copied that from _The Notebook_ —my favorite," he says, watching Jaehyun's eyes, thinking he could see his own reflection in them. And, _strange,_ Taeyong thinks to himself, because he looks more gorgeous in them than he'd ever been in teasers, billboards, and magazine spreads. It's somehow more deflecting and pleasurable than having Jaehyun kiss his mouth and neck.

"I know." Jaehyun smiles back at him. "Taeyong-hyung, of course, if you're a bird— I know—"

With all Taeyong's might, he tries to turn them just so Jaehyun would be the one flat on his back and he's straddling him, and additionally it gives him a free clear show of Jaehyun gaping at him, Jaehyun's flushed cheeks, and Jaehyun's chipped smile when he says, "We're not going to roll around and make out all day, right, hyung?"

"No, Jaehyunie," Taeyong says, shaking his head. "We're going to roll around, then make out, eat dinner, watch _The Notebook_ —" He's cut off by his own shriek as Jaehyun lunges up, nearly flipping them both again, kissing him, starting it off with his mouth opened and tongue already out as if to _devour_ Taeyong alive.

"Taeyong-hyung, you talk too much, wanna do too much," he says against his mouth, and perhaps Taeyong never wants to forget the feel of Jaehyun's mouth moving against his own, may it be kissing or this. Taeyong's never going far from _this._ "You must be joking, right— Are you hungry, hyung? I can wait—"

But Taeyong isn't hungry because he'd eaten sweet potatoes, Taeyong can't wait because he's been wanting this for years, and Taeyong is far, far away, miles away from being serious because he wants to do _more._ He's already clasping at the back of Jaehyun's skull and his shoulder, feels the threads of damaged curly hair against his long fingers, the tent emerging on Jaehyun's front. Jaehyun kisses him harder and mercilessly and with plenty of teeth. This is the real thing, Taeyong thinks, feeling kind of dumb, kind of inexperienced, feeling just a little swung around. It's when Jaehyun bites down on his lower lip and pulls it enough that a gasp is punched straight out of his lungs, and very quickly Jaehyun slips his warm tongue in Taeyong's mouth. It's so nice, so new. So carnal and good, and in his pants there's throbbing and twitching, and on Jaehyun's shoulder there's the tightening of his grip. Taeyong wants to do it again—wants to do it too.

"Jaehyun-ah." His voice is low and raspy, his throat dry. Their chests rise and fall. "Lube and condom where?"

Jaehyun stares at his entire face, seemingly searching for something until he settles for his eyes. "What?" Taeyong asks, unlatching himself from Jaehyun, suddenly conscious of himself. "That's— I at least know how this works, you know—"

Jaehyun looks like he'd seen a ghost, then swiftly his ears go a brighter shade of crimson. "What— Yeah— Of course— Hyung, what the fuck— I'm sorry—"

"Jaehyunie, you've done this before," Taeyong states. He doesn't ask. Jaehyun confirms this with a nod. "Okay… Just—"

"Hyung, you haven't?" Jaehyun asks, looking up at him. Taeyong answers this with a shake of his head and a considerably unnoticeable pout to his lips, but, like, that's his default.

"Good." Jaehyun doesn't judge him, doesn't ask him why it took him this long to do something like this. Jaehyun's entire face only folds into a smile. "There," Jaehyun says, angling his chin to the shelf. Taeyong doesn't see it, but he doesn't say anything and quickly unlodges himself from Jaehyun's lap and goes in search of the stuff. He browses through books, the multiple records stacked up, and the letters until Jaehyun clears his throat. Jaehyun's already sitting by the edge of the bed, hair a mess, cheeks flushed, the collar of his shirt tipping over more on one clavicle than the other, cock straining and noticeable against checkered fabric. Taeyong only realizes all of this now that he's looking, and he can't help but grin to himself because he did that, because Jaehyun looks so undone. So bonny, the kind of beauty the cameras cannot but only he can see.

"Under— That." Taeyong doesn't see where he points, and when he does, he only curses under his breath the right amount, and only wants to pull on Jaehyun's hair a greater amount because—as much as Taeyong feels like he shouldn't be the rightful judge of this—who the fuck stores their condoms under a turntable? Fortunately, Taeyong is in love with this man, and strangely enough, as he lifts the turntable just sufficiently to reach for the sachets underneath, he finds himself falling even more. Taeyong is so, so far-gone.

"Where's your lube?" Taeyong asks, tossing the packet for Jaehyun to catch.

Jaehyun looks puzzled for a moment, and it's crazy, like a soulmate thing, the way Taeyong can practically see his thoughts scattering all over the floor when they meet eyes. "Uh, hyung, we can use spit?" Jaehyun says easily, his voice coming across as natural and unabashed. Either way, Taeyong doesn't question him because Taeyong doesn't know what to do next, doesn't know how to act. He feels just a bit off balance as he pads his way to Jaehyun and stares down at him. He definitely needs to do something, he's older, he's Taeyong-hyung, he's the leader—

Taeyong decides he'll take his shirt off. It's a good distraction, and he won't see Jaehyun's awaiting face for a good two seconds. Not that—not that he doesn't want to see him, but he just simply has no idea what to do. He's not above doing this with Jaehyun. He trusts him, loves him, has loved him all his life. So. He's ready, and more than okay, just that his heart might leap out of his chest because Jaehyun loves him too and clearly trusts him. That doesn't make sense. All of this doesn't make sense. He could've been doing this with Jaehyun two or three years ago, when they weren't fresh from debut anymore and were already other group's seniors. But he is who he is and Jaehyun is Jaehyun. Taeyong won't change a thing about how he confessed, or how long it took.

Taeyong eventually drops his shirt to the floor without much of a sound. His heart fortunately stays in his ribcage when he takes a few steps forward, and on Jaehyun's open, inviting lap and the need between his thighs, he climbs. 

"Jaehyun-ah," Taeyong calls, positioning his hands on Jaehyun's still clothed shoulders. Jaehyun has to tip his head back to completely communicate with him, to completely look at his eyes and see his reflection in them again. Jaehyun has all but settled his hands on his bare hips, rubbing his thumbs on the dips of them—distracting, makes Taeyong shudder on his lap.

"Why don't you have lube?" Taeyong asks, partly curious, for the most part sidetracking and stalling time.

At this, one corner of Jaehyun's lips turn, looking like he knows world-rocking information. "Johnny-hyung gifted me condoms for my birthday but he forgot the lube. He said he'd get them but—"

"Wait, Johnny?" Taeyong frowns, and aptly feels his nose flare. "Johnny? Our Johnny? Seo Youngho?"

"Yeah," Jaehyun says, nodding once. One of his hands has worked its way on Taeyong's ass, and normally, Taeyong would mind and even get mad, but right in front of him and on his ass is Jung Jaehyun. And later Jung Jaehyun will touch his ass bare. He doesn't mind at all, actually. "I didn't get it because I'm too busy to fool around and I don't want to fool around because I—"

"Because I love you. You love me," Taeyong finishes for him, eyes trailing from Jaehyun's eyes, to his lips and down to where their hips meet. 

"I love you," Jaehyun says, his voice still the same cadence from the last time he'd said it. "Taeyong-hyung, I love you."

"I know, Jaehyunie, I know—" It's enough for Taeyong to go for Jaehyun's lips again, his arms locking behind his neck, pulling Jaehyun closer, just enough so that he could kiss him and still breathe. On every pant he can still taste the toothpaste in Jaehyun's mouth, the exigency, the warmth, and with a diffident swirl of his tongue with Jaehyun's own, himself. It's soft and smooth and quiet unlike the previous ones, but it makes his heart race, and he likes it all the same.

"Hi," he mumbles suddenly. He doesn't know why he's doing this, but he doesn't seek to find out. "I'm Lee Taeyong. I've been an idiot and in love with you for so long."

Jaehyun must realize what's happening because his face—as bright and clear as it already is—lights up like Christmas is near. "Hi," he also says, biting his lip. "I'm Jung Jaehyun. I didn't count how long I've been in love with you, but I think maybe half a decade— Maybe more"—the fingers which were on Taeyong's bum creeps up right on the dips of his spine, and Taeyong shivers, fights the want to roll his hips down—"but I don't care."

Somehow, Taeyong doesn't care too when Jaehyun lifts him only to push him back down horizontally on the bed again. Somehow, he doesn't care when Jaehyun takes off what remains of his clothes and Jaehyun takes relatively quickly to lose all his own articles but the necklace. Somehow, he doesn't care about the fact that Jaehyun's fingers are brackish against his tongue as he sucks on them, leaving more saliva than what he deems necessary because they'll eventually be _inside_ him.

Jaehyun had ended up sideways next to him, just about hard and leaking as him, watching as his fingers further sunk in Taeyong's mouth. In spite of the amount of spittle, the drags of the first finger burns inside, and Jaehyun's fingers are fucking long, so fucking long, slender that Taeyong groans, clawing at Jaehyun's stretched arm, if only to mirror what Jaehyun's making him feel.

"Two," Taeyong whispers, sounding a little breathless. "Jaehyunie. Two." But Jaehyun doesn't listen to him, he doesn't yield. He only props himself on his one available elbow properly so he could look at Taeyong and, in a way, he seems out of breath too.

"No. You're not— You're not getting two. Not yet," he says, and Taeyong believes him, doesn't say more because he really isn't ready. He's never done this before even to himself, but Jaehyun kisses him and it is distracting and soft. Jaehyun's lips are so soft, that he nearly doesn't recognize it when, after a few more strokes, Jaehyun adds a second finger and the soft end of the third.

"Please, please, Jaehyun-ah," Taeyong begs but doesn't know what he's begging for, but. He begs. "Please, please, fuck, just— Please—"

"Not yet, Taeyongie. Not yet—" Taeyong doesn't get to tell him about the banmal because Jaehyun's fingers curl, _fucking curl_ inside him, bent enough that they brush along that spot, bent enough that Taeyong sees white, gleaming stars when he screws his eyes shut. Taeyong's panting and has moans spilling right from the extremities of his mouth, fingers gripping on to nothing because of the lack of sheets. He notes to tell Jaehyun to purchase one later, if only he could have something to clutch on to that isn't Jaehyun when they do this again. Taeyong inwardly smiles at that, at the thought of next time, of doing this again and more, of being more. And then he wonders how many times he's touched his own cock; how many times he'd unfortunately forgone fingering himself while doing it.

He thinks about what would happen after this, what they would say to the band and how he would face them after this, how it'll be for them outside the building after this. He was never scared of _this_ because he's never seen _this_ coming but he was lucky that it was Jaehyun, because Jaehyun's beautiful and more than what he deserves; because it was Jaehyun and he knows he'll be with him even when they get any less smart about hiding and subduing. He could get advice from Johnny again, or even Taeil-hyung since he's the oldest and knows better, because they sure aren't keeping this to themselves at all—can't keep it at all. He literally hasn't come out of Jaehyun's room since he left the common and here, in the heat of the moment, they weren't belting out jokes and playing the keyboard, they were naked and in love and their clothes were strewn on the floor.

"You okay?" Jaehyun asks, snapping him out of his interim reverie. There's sweat trickling down Jaehyun's forehead which his curly half-fringes hide even if he's not the one on his back and has three spit-slick fingers in his asshole. But Taeyong doesn't say anything nonetheless, because Jaehyun moves to pull his fingers out and punches a groan out of him. He looks breathtaking and feels breathtaking in this light. Looks even more like it when he settles himself between Taeyong's legs and rips the condom with his teeth.

"Taeyong, are you okay?" Jaehyun reiterates. He isn't looking at him when he asks this, but his cock instead, but that doesn't make the inquiry any less genuine. In fact, Taeyong doesn't think about it at first because he's watching as Jaehyun easily rolls the condom on, the lubed latex all stretched from the base to the bulbous tip of his cock. Destitute of conscious volition, Taeyong's hole flutters, awaiting and wide and empty. His mind reels, and snaps back.

"Yeah." Taeyong finally nods, and then frowns semi-seriously. "Why are you talking informally? Jaehyun-ah, no banmal—"

"I'll literally have my dick inside you in ten seconds," Jaehyun says, spitting on his own hand and smearing it all over his cock. It should neither be hot or sexy, shouldn't make Taeyong bite his lip and want him inside pronto, but it does. Then he spits on it again, but this time he slathers it on Taeyong's hole and suddenly it's sexier and hotter and he wants him in his ass _now._ It's ridiculous. "And, Taeyong, it's just us. Naked. _In love._ Doing things." The playfulness with which his eyes dilate gives Taeyong enough impression that that was what he was going to say earlier before Taeyong had cut him off with his lips. And he's happy he did, because it seems as though Jaehyun carried that same frisk when he leans in and, inch by inch, eases his way inside Taeyong.

Taeyong hikes a leg around his hip, flinching and can't let his lower lip ping back to place when Jaehyun completely bottoms out. Taeyong adjusts to it; the size, the feeling of being stuffed full, connecting with Jaehyun like this, being loose enough that Jaehyun's length is an easy fit. 

"You know it's technically my first time too, right? Doing this," Jaehyun says, hips still, pendant swinging.

"I thought you weren't," Taeyong says, latching his arms around Jaehyun's neck, stealing a kiss from him when he leans closer just for the hell of it. "I thought you weren't a virgin."

"I'm not. Just that— It's my first time being inside is what I'm saying." Jaehyun's inside, Jaehyun still doesn't move, and Taeyong feels like Jaehyun's growing bigger around his walls. For a few moments, they only stare at each other, coal black pinning carat metal, until Taeyong makes a grab for the back of his skull, kisses him, runs a tongue over the roof of his mouth and says, "Then fuck me, Jaehyun-ah. Fuck me— Make it last, make _love_ to me."

Jaehyun does exactly just that, and it's hot and sedulous and makes him feel more than when they're just making out. Nothing at all about it is gentle, given the fact that he's a virgin and other people are virgins and other people liked to talk so much about having their first time's scheduled and special. Candlelit. With lube. Preferably in a hotel with a bigger bed that has sheets. But it's more than okay, because it's Jaehyun and he fucks Taeyong with affection in his glassy eyes. He makes Taeyong keen and moan, hide against one side of his head, skin slapping loudly against skin. It's more than enough, the fact that he's giving so much of himself for Taeyong to take. 

Taeyong eventually hitches his other leg around Jaehyun's hip and crosses his feet together, feeling Jaehyun's ass against the soles of his feet before they fall limp on the mattress because Jaehyun is insane, because Jaehyun is canting his hips in a way that definitely betrays his earlier confession and prompts Taeyong to lay tight hold of his arm.

"Fuck, Jaehyunie," Taeyong whines. "Fuck, fuck—" He removes his face from against Jaehyun's and pulls on the pendant of his necklace to claim his lips. Jaehyun is a lover, a first-timer, a demon in bed. Taeyong loves him. Taeyong loves, loves him when he gasps while he fucks Taeyong into the mattress with abandon, impatient and greedy even when he's on the giving side, a small bead of sweat threatening to escape from the hold of his strands. He is pounding that one spot directly and making Taeyong see white long before Taeyong's cock is even pulsing with white, right when Taeyong himself wants to do the same to him.

"Jaehyunie. Jaehyun-ah, we should— We should do this the other way around next time," Taeyong says against his mouth. "Next time. Me in you, inside you—"

"What, Taeyongie—" Jaehyun isn't asking anything in particular, but Taeyong answers this with a fervent nod and a release of a hand from Jaehyun's neck just so he could inch it between them and wrap it around his cock—red and hard and leaking on his own stomach. On the hollow of his navel where the tip sits by and his precum dribbles down his sides like a chalky little stream, as though he'd already reached his orgasm once and would like to grasp it a second time.

"I'm saying—" He strokes faster, grips harder, rubs his thumb over the tip once, twice. His voice is meager, as if someone's pulling at the lasso with which holds his voice box, all in unison with the desperate tugs to his cock. He _wants_ to come. "Me inside you. Me inside— You'll love it— I— I fucking love you."

Taeyong doesn't know why he blurted that out, but it just felt like the most ideal moment for them, mostly because he was close, and Jaehyun seemed thrown off by it; Jaehyun, whose thrusts were unrelenting and steady, had been in and out, now loses the rhythm in his hips and seems to have directed that same vitality to his fists on the mattress. He groans loudly and shudders so violently into what seems to be his orgasm with Taeyong and a litany of 'fuck's and yeses on his lips. He twitches against Taeyong's walls, thrusting shallowly even when he closes his eyes and lies his weight on one arm. He's breathing as much as he can, face clearly smeared with roses and bliss.

"Shit," he exhales. "I love fucking you." It would be funny, what he said, like a mirror of Taeyong's admission except it's kind of shuffled. Unfortunately, Taeyong doesn't laugh because Taeyong has yet to follow, Taeyong has yet to come, and he's left panting and letting out silent moans with his hand on his cock. Contrary to earlier, he actually doesn't want to beg. He suddenly doesn't want to ask for Jaehyun's attention to jerk him off, settling only for touching himself to completion with tears welling up in his eyes.

But then Jaehyun seems to hop off cloud nine and come back to himself. "Fuck— Fuck, Taeyong-hyung," he exclaims. "Give me— Sorry—" He replaces the hand on Taeyong's cock with his, stroking from base to tip, gripping, pinky just faintly brushing past his balls during every knead.

So slow but so good, Taeyong bites his lip so hard it might bleed.

So slow but so, so good, that, after another half-stroke, orgasm quickly washes over him and next thing he knows he's already gushing ribbons of white, a mess of ocean waves licking over the shore, like he's back at the beaches he recalls he's been to—rapid and profound and hot, and then gradual, plain sailing, like floating along the zephyr that follows it. He comes so hard that he nearly cries, his cum-stained stomach clenching, his thighs trembling, but all is well because Jaehyun is there. Jaehyun is there, kissing the edge of his eyes, kissing the tears off of them before they even attain the privilege to fall, his lips, his forehead, and the creases of his eyelids when he closes them. 

Taeyong throws his head back on the pillow, pink on white, panting as his body gives its last shiver. When Taeyong opens his eyes again, it's to see Jaehyun staring down at him. He's all flushed from the lobes of his ears down to his cheeks and the vast expanse of his chest, and Taeyong actually thinks the light behind him, wherever that may come from, flares a golden aureole around his head. Or, maybe, that was his halo, which further supplies to the supposition that Jaehyun really is an angel like how he's always been in the songs Taeyong's written.

Before he knows it, Jaehyun has already silently leaned down to press a bare kiss squarely on his mouth. "We're going to have to launder your mattress, angel," Taeyong says against his, only for Jaehyun to nod and give him a noncommittal hum in response, because obviously opening his mouth to slot it with Taeyong's is better than hearing Taeyong use his own mouth to talk about laundering beds. And calling him 'angel,' apparently.

The kiss this time feels impossibly slow and somehow all-embracing even when Jaehyun swipes a tongue near the corner of Taeyong's lips, as though he'd licked something off his skin. It goes on for a few minutes, until Taeyong pulls away, but somehow feels like going for it himself when he catches Jaehyun chase for his lips. "What's with you and kissing me?" he asks, not exactly curious, exactly joking. He has absolutely zero complications about that—it's a fair trade between mouths, really, and Taeyong would love to trade over and over again.

"What's with _you_ and kissing me?" Jaehyun spits back, and very quickly flinches when Taeyong flicks his forehead.

"Ow! Hyung—"

"Yah, you kissed me first," Taeyong says matter-of-factly. "I'm just putting that out there."

Jaehyun barks out a laugh, ears burning. "And you kissed back." He detaches himself from Taeyong's side to pull out of him. There's the stretch again, the movement yielding a groan from each of them although Jaehyun had done it carefully.

"I'd be a fool to not kiss back," Taeyong bites back. Jaehyun gives him a giggle, tilting his head to the side.

"And I'd be a fool to not kiss you even though you asked me out, hyung." Taeyong doesn't have anything else to say to that, because he's all run out of retorts, and because Jaehyun's already taking off the surprisingly very soiled condom and it's just as sexy and hot as when he rolled it on and maybe—no—Taeyong wants him inside again. No. Fuck. What the fuck. He watches Jaehyun tie it off and make for the clothes on the floor, but stops him by blocking the way with his leg.

"Where are you going?"

"Bathroom?" Jaehyun's brows meet, slightly swinging the condom in his hand to supply his answer. He looks incredibly gorgeous like this; kneeling on the bed, naked from head to toe, torso twisted in a way that should be pornographic. And. Fucking hell. Taeyong needs to look away. Taeyong _has_ to look away.

"Don't you have a trash can here?" He believes Jaehyun doesn't, but it doesn't hurt to ask. And, turns out, he really doesn't, so Taeyong watches him put his underwear and pajamas back on, doing without a shirt. Taeyong sits up, and stands to make for his clothes on the floor too until, abruptly, Jaehyun stops him.

"Don't do anything," Jaehyun says, wide-eyed gaze boring into Taeyong's already naturally wide ones, and he's confusing, frankly.

"What?" Taeyong asks, attempting to stand up again only to be stopped by Jaehyun's hand on his shoulders.

He looks bashful, and for a moment Taeyong even thinks he'd scratch the back of his neck. He doesn't. He just looks away. "Don't— I'll clean you, hyung, okay? Let me do it. I'll clean you myself—"

"Okay," Taeyong says, nodding with a smile on his lips. "Okay, I love you."

"Love you." He untangles himself from Taeyong, heads out the door, and with a peek from the tiny space he's made between the door and its frame, says, "Taeyong-hyung, I love you," then the door shuts with a click.

Taeyong's giggling to himself when he makes himself comfortable in bed again, and then it all dawns on him. Jaehyun's in love with him, too, and apparently for as long as he's been. Even now it still seems far-fetched, but he stares down and sees the cum nearly drying on his torso, which is an evidence of what they just did and what happened before they did it. _I love you,_ the voice that sounds very much like Jaehyun in his head says. But he wasn't just imagining that. Jaehyun said that. Jaehyun definitely said that. More than once. Right before he closed the door and left.

Taeyong rolls over and, finally, screams into a pillow. It smells like musk and white suede, and like Jaehyun, too.

After some time, Jaehyun comes back. "Hyung," he says when he enters, a damp navy blue towel in hand. He takes the space beside him to wipe him gently just as Taeyong starts to lean on the headboard. It's a small gesture, something Taeyong can do on his own, but warmth still spreads over his chest nonetheless, unfurling until it curls on its own into a blossoming flower the color that of Jaehyun's plump cheeks.

"You're blushing," Jaehyun points out, pointedly looking at his stomach as he wipes off the rest of Taeyong's cum. "You're blushing, hyung, why?"

"What? I like this," Taeyong answers. He doesn't even hide it anymore.

"I know," Jaehyun laughs, glowing. The halo is still there, it seems. "You like"—he gesticulates between the two of them—"being a baby. Being babied."

"I'm your baby," Taeyong braves to imitate Jaehyun. This makes Jaehyun pause. There's only silence, one that neither of them dares to sever because Jaehyun is staring at him in awe and disbelief, and Taeyong's too busy flushing at him with a small smile.

"Wow," Jaehyun whispers, recoiling, chin meeting chest. "And you called me angel. So? Baby angel? What? Are you Taeyong-hyung?"

Taeyong laughs, loud and unrestrained, and slaps Jaehyun with the towel. "Shut up! Go buy bedsheets or something." It's embarrassing, to be like this with Jaehyun, but being this embarrassed means he's also free. It's not that bad of an arrangement.

"Really, hyung?" Jaehyun stands to pick his clothes up from the floor. He turns to Taeyong and tilts his head. "Not like anyone can hear us. No one's outside."

Taeyong's throat catches. "Do you think they heard us?" 

Jaehyun shrugs. For some reason he looks very smug, and Taeyong would like to whack him. "Who cares, baby?" he says, handing Taeyong his underwear. Taeyong feels his face go hot at the endearment. Now, he really, really wants to whack him. "Do you?"

Taeyong finds himself shaking his head, because he does not. He really doesn't. It's too late for that now, and even if it wasn't, Taeyong doubts he'd still give a shit if they heard anything. They'd find out, anyway.

"Good." Jaehyun grins at him. "Now get dressed and uh— Let me spoon you. Then we'll get bedsheets tomorrow or something."

Taeyong giggles, gets dressed, and lets Jaehyun do exactly just that.

* * *

They didn't even need to tell the members, because they already knew when, later that night, they went down the lower floor and saw all of them crammed up there. Johnny had only grinned at him and gave him a thumbs-up, and, he thinks he saw him give Jaehyun a look too. Embarrassingly, the older members congratulated him for finally losing his virginity; Doyoung clapped for him all the while shaking his head dramatically. Taeyong at least knows he's happy for him. It was only them, though, because Mark and Haechan were too… stupefied to say anything. They eventually started talking during dinner, but it was to fight each other about the last quail egg in their jangjorim, only to end up cutting it into two, Haechan getting the bigger half. But the night didn't end there, because Taeyong has a considerably bigger bed, and it only felt right that he spent the night with Jaehyun in his room, and it only felt right for Mark and Haechan to knock and congratulate them for getting together. They bought Jaehyun's new sheets the next day—online, for some reason—and it was all… amazing. Taeyong feels so amazing that he'd been staying up late at night writing more songs about snow white skin, a pretty face, and curly hair.

"When are you getting rid of the perm?" he asks Jaehyun. They're lounging in the living room, with Taeyong leaning on the arm of the sofa and his legs on Jaehyun's lap. The television is on and playing CFs, because Taeyong had watched today's _Inkigayo_ broadcast just for Jaehyun. "Jaehyunie, when?"

Jaehyun is still wearing that white tee and red top that says 'Sears, Roebuck and Co.' only because he has yet to change his clothes, but didn't do that because it's only been two days and they're fresh on the relationship stage and he wants to see Taeyong as soon as he got back. He's so stupid. And cheesy. Taeyong loves him.

"Hyung, this took five hours." He points to his hair. "Why? You don't like it? You kept clutching it when I was fuck"—Taeyong kicks his thigh—"Ouch! Hyung, why do you like hurting me!"

"Then stop talking like that!" Taeyong shrieks, although clearly amused by the situation.

Jaehyun's face crumbles to seriousness. "Make me."

"I refuse," Taeyong says with just the same amount of gravitas. "I'm not—" His sentence ends with a yelp, because Jaehyun mutters something and immediately pulls on his legs to drag him closer, tickling him to death—that's an exaggeration, he's exaggerating, because Taeyong isn't clearly hanging by death's door from having Jaehyun's fingers rub at his sensitive spots, but the fact that all this feels too lovely and something he didn't know he's been wanting all this time. He twists and turns in Jaehyun's hold, and they're both laughing, especially Taeyong who's on the receiving end and whose laughter resonates louder than the television. There are beatific tears loitering by the corner of his eyes and dimples on Jaehyun's cheeks as Jaehyun somehow manages to hoist him up and put him on his lap. Jaehyun cackles at him, because he has arms hugging his torso just in case Jaehyun tries something again.

Taeyong glares. "Jung Jaehyun, you are a mean person."

"Hey, I'm not." Jaehyun has hands holding Taeyong by the hips, and then the other slipping down his thighs. It's honestly distracting. "It's your fault. It's unfair," he mumbles, the tips of his ears reddening.

"I don't know what that means," Taeyong says, shaking his head. "But your ears are red, Jaehyunie."

"Yes." Jaehyun grins, fingers tapping on Taeyong's thigh. "That means I love you." That doesn't make sense, but Taeyong supposes nothing has to if all he needs to do is lean in and press their lips together. It surprisingly takes them a few hiccups; their teeth clashing a bit and their noses bumping, but the road clears either way, and it's open-mouthed, the kiss, warm and slick with spit. Jaehyun's hands eventually find their way to the crook of his folded knees, giving it light squeezes which implications Taeyong very well understands. Light enough for Taeyong to willingly open his mouth, and have his tongue licked by Jaehyun enough for him to heave and latch his fingers onto his hair.

"Proving my point," Jaehyun mumbles against his mouth, smiles against it, but Taeyong doesn't care, Taeyong doesn't stop, Taeyong doesn't—

"Oh," a voice interrupts—Doyoung. He looks like he just got out of his room. "Do I have to get used to this now? Are you doing this on the road too?" It's possible that Taeyong's face went hot at that, it's also possible that it was because of the kiss.

"I don't want to see this daily," Doyoung says, shaking his head and waving dismissively. "Get out, get a room—"

"Doyoung-hyung, you should try dating too," Jaehyun counters, smiling cheekily at him. It's also possible that Taeyong will never get tired of seeing Jaehyun fucking dimpling everytime he smiles. "Ask Johnny-hyung, he might be of help."

Doyoung stares at him, blinking. "What did you— Johnny-hyung! Jaehyunie said something!" He vanishes to Johnny's room, and before the door could even close, Doyoung's already telling Johnny exactly what Jaehyun said, and Johnny's yelling.

Jaehyun quickly stands up with Taeyong in his arms, the elder instinctively wrapping his legs around his waist. "Let's get that room he told us to get before Johnny-hyung comes to kill me."

"What do you mean he'd be of help?" Taeyong asks as Jaehyun leads them to his room. "You knew? I didn't know— He never told me!" He's his best friend. And this guy, and this—his boyfriend knew about it. Johnny's coffee and wine mate. Whatever that is. He even forgot to get Jaehyun lube for his birthday. Taeyong is so getting him for this.

They get to his room, and Jaehyun closes the door before caging Taeyong against it. "Don't think about it, hyung." Jaehyun licks his lips, and Taeyong stares. "Think about this, and the next time you told me about."

"Me inside?"

Jaehyun nods a little too eagerly, the bridge of his nose scrunching slightly. Taeyong _can't_ wait to be inside. "You inside."

It's also still possible for Taeyong to feel like holding his breath when Jaehyun kisses him, to feel like it's their first time, to feel like he had just confessed again, even though their kisses can no longer be counted with four hands, including his toes and Jaehyun's toes. It's also possible that he's actually mad at Johnny for keeping a secret from him, but, like, that doesn't matter for now.

What matters here is them, now, the fact that Jaehyun loves him too, and his kisses feel just like it.

**Author's Note:**

> if this somehow did not make sense (which it didn't) there are two things to blame: me, or jaehyun during that one 10th floor vlive which is the sole reason why this was written in the first place. this is where i also announce that yes i am starting to like johndo :D
> 
> thank you for reading! i'd love to hear some thoughts if you have any.
> 
> just in case: [twitter](https://twitter.com/eyesdives)


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